The Cinderella Chronicles
by venerdi
Summary: COMPLETE! What happens if Harry Potter was Cinderella? and Severus Snape was his stepfather? Glass slippers, a very egotistic stepbro, and a fairy godmother(or father *hint*) with flaming red hair. Will this fairy tale end happily ever after? H/Hr
1. The Infamous Invitation

**Title: The Cinderella Chronicles**

** Summary: ** What happens if Harry Potter was Cinderella? and Severus Snape was his stepfather? Glass slippers, a stepbrother who's the size of a giant, and a fairy godmother (or shall I say father::hint! hint!::) with flaming red hair. Will this fairy tale end happily ever after? See if you can find out. 

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything...I wish I own them but I don't, so don't sue me. and if you do sue me, i'll counter-sue you...[is there any such thing as counter-sue?]

**Author's Note: ** This is my very first fic. I am welcome to all reviews, flames, bashing and the sort. I really don't like my plot, to tell you the truth, but I wrote this thing just to try my skills at writing, but it turned out to be full of hogwash and nonsense, so I'm going to end this very long sentence right now and leave you be. 

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Infamous Invitation**

Harry woke with a start on a beautiful morning when he heard his name. 

"Harry! Harry wake up and cook breakfast. We're famished!" bellowed his very large stepbrother Vincent. 

"All right, all right. I'm up already," answered Harry. He squinted through golden sunlight, pouring from his window. He lived up at the attic with all the dust and spiders. He quietly sat up and dressed in his rags. This is how his day started. He would cook for his so-called family and then afterwards, clean up after them. He would then feed the chickens, do the laundry, cook lunch and then clean the house until his arms wore out. He sometimes went out to the market and buy whatever his stepfather would ask and then return to cook their supper. '_ What miserable life I have'_, thought Harry. 

Harry grew up having only his loving mother. His father had died in a battle fighting for their country. "James Potter was courageous," his mother would always say to him. But things changed quite drastically for Harry because his mother remarried a slimy git named Severus Snape. He couldn't stop the marriage from happening because he only wanted his mother to be happy. It turned out that his stepfather had two sons already. He was quite ecstatic when he first found out, but to his great disappointment, it turned out that they were as nasty as and as ugly as their father was. His stepbrothers were Draco and Vincent Snape. Alas, disaster struck! His mother died because of an illness when he was 11, and from then on, he became a lowly servant working for his stepfather. 

"Hurry up! You got up late today boy. Do you want to get beaten again?" remarked his stepfather maliciously as he started to cook some bacon. 

"And try not to burn the bacon, Potter. It's bad as it is that you woke up late today, and I'll have to wait for my breakfast," Draco added. 

"Well, you could be more helpful if you close your abnormally big mouth," replied Harry under his breath. He had always loathed Draco but tried not to let him get the better of him self. He bit his tongue when insults were thrown his way because he might do something that he might regret, like taking someone's eyes out of their sockets. 

"What's that you said?" asked Draco suspiciously. 

"Nothing. I was just commenting on how beautiful the morning is," quipped Harry. 

After breakfast, when he was just about to clean the house, the doorbell rang. He opened it to find the Royal Messenger standing by the door, holding what looked like an envelope. 

"Good morning! May you please give this letter over here to the head of the house." 

"Certainly Sir," replied Harry as the Messenger handed over the letter. 

"Thank you! That will be all." The Messenger then turned his back, went to the carriage and left. 

'_A letter from the Palace?,'_ Harry thought. '_Why would they send a letter? I should give this right away. It might be something important saying something like Vincent should learn the alphabet. If that's it, then it must be something really important.'_

He then went to the study where his stepbrothers and stepfather stayed for the rest of the morning. He slowly made his way towards the study, and upon reaching it, knocked on the door. 

"Come in," Severus bellowed angrily. 

Harry opened the door gingerly, dreading that his stepfather might explode at the sight of him.

"Excuse me Stepfather," said Harry carefully. 

"What is it? I told you not to disturb us! Can't you see we're busy?" his stepfather hissed. 

"Sorry, but there's a letter from the Palace. It just came after breakfast." answered Harry as he gave the letter to his greasy-haired stepfather. 

"Oh, is it from the Princess? Has she decided to marry me?" asked Draco hopefully. 

"Quiet now, Draco. It's an invitation. How quaint. It reads: 

" _ To the Snape household,_

_ Greetings! _

_ You are officially invited to her Royal Highness, the Princess's 18th Birthday. It will be held on Saturday, September 19. The venue, of course, will be at the palace. The party will start at around seven in the evening. It will be a Masquerade Party, so do wear the proper attire and that every male of your household attend (although the women are also invited). For the duration of the party, the Princess will also choose her groom-to-be. Therefore, the Princess and I hope that you would be present at the said occasion. _

_ Thank you and have a marvelous day! _

_ His Royal Highness, _

_ King Albus Dumbledore_"

"A party? This Saturday? Why it's wonderful Father! Do you s'pose she'll pick me?" Draco said excitedly, almost bouncing like a little child excited about opening a Christmas gift. 

"Father, what's a party?" inquired Vincent, looking as dumbfounded as ever. 

* * *

"Father, must I really go to my party?" asked Princess Hermione as she ate her breakfast that morning. 

"Dear, we've already sent the invitations and everything, and besides, it wouldn't be your party if you weren't there. Could you please pass the rolls?" replied her father, King Albus. 

"But must I really choose my groom to be? I mean I want to wait for the right time and such, and what if I don't find anyone this Saturday. I can go to the party but I don't know if I can choose anyone," she said as she passed the rolls to her father. 

"You can choose someone. I have confidence in you. Almost every young man in this kingdom like you, and they'll probably like the idea of marrying a princess. You're coming of age, dear, and I am quite old already. I need to rest and go to a vacation in the Caribbean." 

"But do you suppose that Draco will come? He's an insufferable git, you know. He's very arrogant and obnoxious," remarked Hermione heatedly. 

"Oh, he'll come. I'm quite sure of that. I've invited their household, and I don't think he'd give up a opportunity like this to have you convinced that he's very charming, but then again, I'd do that also because you are very attractive and intelligent, and it's not just that. You're also a very loving daughter, who I'm sure would not disobey her father," stated the King amusingly. 

"Oh stop it Father!," Hermione said, blushing a bit. " Okay, I would go to my little party, but on one condition," she replied. 

"And what is that, may I ask?" 

"Well, it's just that I want you to spend the day with me because you've been spending so much time looking after the people, signing things, ordering stuff and such. Basically doing your job as a king, which I suppose is expected of you and I–" Hermione became suddenly fascinated with her food. 

"Hmmm. Well, we could go into town today and then afterwards, have a picnic down by the gardens. I haven't much to do today, and we could do the planning on your ball, you know," interrupted her father. 

"What?!? Really? I mean we'd really spend the day together?" she stuttered as she looked up from her plate. 

"Yes, I really mean it, and I think you should stop playing with your food and get ready because we're leaving in a few minutes," answered her father, grinning. 

Hermione was actually smiling from ear to ear as she got up, hugged her father and ran out to her bedroom. She was so delighted. It had been a very long time since they've even went out together. 

* * *

After cleaning up the house and feeding them lunch, Harry set off for the market to get things he needed for dinner. He was busy examining the potatoes, when he saw a huge crowd struggling to get a look at something or someone. He got pretty curious and joined the crowd. He asked a fellow beside him what the hubbub was all about. 

"It's the King and Princess Hermione. Apparently, the Princess is going to the dressmaker's today. I don't know why she wouldn't just send the dressmaker to the palace, but then who's to complain," responded the stranger. 

"Thanks" was all the Harry could say. He couldn't believe the Princess was here. He just needed to get close enough to see her. He pushed his way through the throngs of people and finally came up close to get a glimpse of her. He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw her. She was so beautiful. He couldn't muster up any words to describe how good looking she was. Her long hair cascading down her back, her golden– brown skin, and her hearty smile, which makes you want to just gape at her, like lovesick puppy. He was secretly wishing that she was his, but then he thought that that would never happen. A princess like her would want a dashing prince who would sweep her away from her feet. 

As he watched the Princess, he remembered the invitation sent early that day. He asked his stepfather if he could accompany them since the invitation said that every male of the household, and he boldly told his stepfather that that included him. To his great surprise, Severus Snape agreed, but as all good things never last, there was a hitch. He should finish all his chores before the ball and that for the next two days he would obey whatever they– his stepbrothers included– order him to do, and if he ever mess up a single thing, he would be locked up in his room. And that particular thought reminded him to fetch the tailor, so that his pompous stepbrothers could pick their clothes for the ball. 

He reluctantly went to buy what he needed and then made his way to the tailor's. After a few minutes, the tailor was with him and they were making their way to the house. Upon entering the house, he led the tailor to the sitting room and went to call his pretentious stepbrothers. 

"Excuse me Draco, Vincent, but the tailor is waiting downstairs in the sitting room," stated Harry unenthusiastically. 

"Give him something to eat and tell him we'll be down in a minute or so," replied Draco smugly. "Oh, and better take a bath, Potter. You smell like a skunk. When was the last time you took a decent bath?" 

"Is that all?" said Harry through gritted teeth. 

"That's all for now, Potter," Draco replied with relish. 

* * *

"What kind of dress would you like, your Majesty?" 

"I haven't decided yet, actually." 

"Hmmm. How about this red one?" 

"No, it's too red," replied Hermione. 

"I know! This blue one would suit you fairly well." 

"Yes! That's absolutely perfect," remarked Hermione as she examined the dress with intense excitement. The dress was bell– sleeved and high– waisted, with gold trims adorning the sleeve bottoms. It was beautifully made of velvet, and it was the color of the sky. 

"I agree m'dear. It goes well on you. You will look exquisite in that dress," expressed her father. 

"Why thank you Father! I'm positively excited about the ball. All those people will be coming just for me," answered Hermione with pure delight evident in her voice. 

"Oh and I thought that you detest the idea of going to the ball on Saturday," quipped King Albus with amusement. 

"And what gave you that idea, Father?" asked Hermione indignantly. 

"Well, you asked me just this morning if you should really come to your ball. The exact words are 'Father, must I really come to my party?' " stated the king matter-of-factly. 

Hermione scowled. Albus laughed at this and shepherded her out to the carriage. 

"Thank you very much for your time," said the King whilst waving goodbye to the dressmaker. 

"Yes, thank you for the dress. It's simply magnificent. Will I be seeing you and your family at the ball?" added Hermione as she sat in the carriage. 

"Definitely, your Highness. My husband and I wouldn't miss it. Goodbye!" answered the dressmaker as the carriage set out for the palace. 

* * *

It was the day of the Masquerade Ball, and Harry had just finished mending what he would wear for the night. It was very simple, yet comfortable. He would wear a green shirt and black breeches with his father's knee high boots. He was very excited that he finished his chores so fast that even he couldn't believe it. He was like the speed of light that morning. He woke up at dawn and fed the animals. Afterwards, he cooked breakfast and cleaned the house with a flourish. He didn't even mind when Draco insulted him at breakfast. Nothing would ever stop him from going to the Masquerade Ball. 

Or so he thought. 

When Harry was about to go down, he found himself unable to get out of his room. He twisted and turned the knob but to no avail. He was locked in. As he was about to kick the door open, he heard his stepfather and Draco outside his room talking. 

"What did you do? Why'd you lock me in?" bellowed Harry angrily. 

"What did we do? We did nothing. You ruined poor Draco's brand new jerkin. Ink is spilled all over it, and you're the one who handled it yesterday," retorted Severus acidly. 

"I did nothing of the sort. Draco must be lying. When I gave him the jerkin, it was as clean as ever," answered Harry indignantly. 

"Look, Father. He ruins my jerkin and now, he calls me a liar. He should be punished more than this," stated Draco maliciously. 

"Yes, Draco. I agree with you wholeheartedly. You will stay here until the morrow, and you shan't have any meals for the next day. Did you hear me boy or do you want to be whipped again? I daresay, you should be happy with this punishment already. I could think of more, you know," he said. " Come now Draco or we'll be late for the Masquerade Ball. You don't want the Princess to be waiting, now do you?" 

"Yes Father. We'll be terribly late because of this _ filth,_" replied Draco. They left Harry fuming in his room. 

"How could I sneak out of this horrid place? I wish they'd just left me in an orphanage or something of the sort when Mother died. I'd probably be happy there, but no. They kept me. For what? They just made me a servant, a slave. I should have my inheritance, but they took it all away. I _ despise_ them. I loathe them with all my heart", thought Harry out loud, with scorn in his voice. 

"Wow! You really hate them," said a hoarse voice. 

"Who's there? Who are you? What are you doing here?" asked Harry as he looked around in his room for the owner of the voice. And as he glanced at his bed, he heard a small 'pop' somewhere to his right. He turned sideways, and to his surprise, saw a man, standing a few feet away from him. No, it was more like a boy his age wearing a dress like one worn by women friends of his stepfather. He couldn't believe his eyes. He was open-mouthed right now and as he realized this, he closed it right away. He was suppose to ask who the person was, but somehow that thought got lost on its way to his mouth and instead he asked "Why are you wearing a dress?" 

"What are you talking about?" asked the boy as he glanced down. As he did this, comprehension dawned on him. "Oh! I wasn't suppose to be wearing that." As he said this to Harry, there was another 'pop' and his clothes changed to those worn by wizards. "There much better, isn't it?" Harry couldn't find his voice to answer so he just nodded his head. 

"You must be wondering why I am here, so you need not ask any questions because I will tell you that right now." He paused for a while to gather his thoughts. 

Before he could tell Harry anything, Harry asked, "Are you my fairy godmother?" And that snapped him out of his thoughts. 

"No, because first, I'm not a woman so technically I'm not a godmother. Second, I'm not a fairy because I'm a wizard and I don't have wings. See?" The mysterious person turned around while saying this. "And lastly, I was just sent here. I'm sort of a substitute because your real godfather is somewhere I don't know in a place very far away," the boy added hastily as he saw the confused look on Harry's face. 

"And by the way my name is Ron. Ron Weasley." 

As he finished talking, Harry dropped to a dead faint. 

* * *

**Next Chapter:** dundundundun...the Masquerade Ball

**post script:** Please review or else [am joking, i just need reviews to increase my self-image, or in other words, i just need reviews so I can boost my ever-so-enormous ego]....anyway, I am in dire need of a beta-reader, so those who want to, please email me...


	2. The Green eyed Prince Charming

**Title: ** The Cinderella Chronicles

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters...yada...yada...you must be very dense to believe that I own them...the Cinderella plot, of course, isn't mine as well. [I wish...]

**Author's Note: ** Whoa! It's been a very loooong time. A year to be exact. What can I say? Reality kept knocking on my door, calling me on the phone and basically, it kept on bugging me and following me wherever I go. In other words, I had schoolwork to do and being the person that I am, I can't afford to take my studies for granted. But here is the second chapter anyway. Sorry for the short chapter, but I had to cut chapter 2 into two chapters because it was very long, so the other half would be chapter 3. Thanks by the way to all those who reviewed, and I still accept flames. Thanks also to Isis for proofreading this chapter. I hope you enjoy reading this dull chapter. Cheerio!

**Chapter Summary:** Harry wakes up [duh!], Hermione's preparation for the Ball, and oh...I don't know... the Masquerade Ball?!?

* * *

**Chapter 2: The Green-eyed Prince Charming**

"_Ennervate"_

Harry felt sluggish and confused. He felt like his arms were pounds of lead and his eyelids tons of granite. He couldn't open them one bit. He couldn't even remember what happened. He was just about to sort out his thoughts when something or someone jabbed at him. Actually, it was more like a soft poke by a sharp and pointed object. Harry Potter slowly opened his eyes and saw a ginger-haired boy poking his chest with a wand. 

"Aaaaaahhhh!" screamed a very shocked and bewildered Harry. 

"Oh good! You're awake already." Ron then stood upright and assisted Harry to the small bed to their left. He then proceeded on to hand him a slab of sweet, delectable chocolate, which Harry accepted with raised eyebrows. "Don't worry the chocolate's not drugged or anything. It'll help you recover a bit." Harry took a little bite at first. He then felt warmth spread throughout his body, starting from his fingertips to his toes. He felt all tingly. 

"You gave me a fright there, y'know. I suppose it is quite shocking to be fuming by yourself in your room and suddenly finding a wizard in your midst while wearing a cocktail dress and all," said Ron matter-of-factly. 

"Yes, it is a bit shocking," agreed Harry with another bite of chocolate. "It's Ron, right?" Ron nodded. "What are you doing here? and why would a wizard visit me in the middle of my raving?" asked Harry with a mouthful of chocolate. 

"Well, I was about to tell you that when you fainted," replied Ron, "You have a godfather and he's Sirius Black, but he was sent on a mission going to Timbuktu." 

"Why was he sent to Timbuktu?" interrupted Harry. 

"The answer to that is I don't know. You see, I'm just sort of a substitute for him while he's gone to Timbuktu. I handle all the paperwork. I attend all his seminars and meetings and I do most of the boring and dull office work, but I don't really know what he does to the places that he goes to," 

"So, you're like his assistant?" inquired Harry. 

"Yes, sort of. Anyway, I came here because you're in dire need of help, rescuing, and new and fashionable clothes, as my memo here tells me," answered Ron. 

"Well, isn't it quite evident that I need rescuing? I'm stuck here in this dusty, old attic while the Masquerade Ball, which I'm dying to attend, has already started! I'm also wondering why my frickin' godfather never came during all these years of sheer torment and oh, I don't know, abuse?!?" replied Harry sardonically. 

"What was that again? Sheer torment and?" questioned Ron while taking down on his little memo pad what Harry has just said. 

"Um....abuse?" responded Harry while watching him curiously. "Can I ask you a question, Ron?" 

"Sure, what is it?" 

"Why are you jotting down what I said?" asked Harry carefully. 

"Oh! Well, I wrote down what you said because I'm going to make a report after this and Sirius will read it when he gets back." 

"Oh, I see! Um...so can I go to the Masquerade Ball right now?" 

"NO! You have to look absolutely spiffy and dashing, and you're not anywhere near that description," pointed out Ron hastily without any trace of malice. 

Harry was indignant and insulted. "Well, thanks very much for the compliment, Ron. Besides, I don't see you helping me to be spiffy or dashing in any way." 

"I didn't mean it like that. You see, I can give you more extravagant and expensive clothes than what you're wearing right now; therefore, you can look like a dashing prince and steal Princess Hermione's heart," replied a very embarrassed and worried Ron while eyeing Harry carefully. 

"Fine then, but can you wave your wand, do magic or whatever, so that I can look like a 'dashing prince' and go to the Ball?" Harry was already getting impatient and finished the whole slab of chocolate that Ron gave him earlier in an attempt to calm down his fraying nerves. 

"Don't worry. This will all be done in a jiffy." 

* * *

Being the day of her most-awaited party, Princess Hermione was extremely nervous and excited at the same time; nervous at the thought of picking her future husband and excited at the prospect of a new beginning, a new life with hopefully, the right person. The day went by sluggishly like a snail crossing a very wide road. It was as if the fates suddenly agreed on making everything move slowly. Hermione couldn't take it any longer, so she decided to spend the afternoon reading in their vast and magnificent library. 

"Which one to read? I can't choose between A Midsummer Night's Dream and Romeo and Juliet. Which one to read? Hmmm. Can't really decide. I'll read both," said Hermione contemplatively. And so she read William Shakespeare's works without any interruption. However, when she was already halfway through Romeo and Juliet, Virginia otherwise known as Ginny disrupted her _light _ reading. 

"Mione? Are you in here?" asked Ginny cautiously. While walking around the towering book shelves, Ginny saw Hermione at the far side of the library, seated at a long table by the high windows. She found her reading a very thick volume, her nose only about an inch away from the book. "Hermione!" 

Hermione was quite surprised and jumped up a little, dropping her thick and heavy book which fell to the floor, and in turn hit her foot. "Ouch!" Ginny immediately ran to her side and was saying apologies fervently. Hermione, on the other hand, was jumping up and down while holding her foot. 

"I'm terribly sorry Hermione. I didn't mean to startle you. I really am sorry. Are you all right? Are you still alive? Does it hurt in any way?" Ginny prompted while picking up Hermione's book. 

"Of course it hurts, Ginny! I'm not a block of stone, you know. And why are you here anyway?" Hermione was cursing to herself. Her foot was starting to get better and she was slowly sitting down now. 

"Well, King Albus instructed me to find you. Are you sure you're all right?" Ginny asked again carefully. 

"Why is Father looking for me?" replied Hermione while nursing her foot. 

"He said that you should start preparing for the Ball because it'll begin in a few hours time, and he knows how you are when preparing for something," answered Ginny matter-of-factly while putting the heavy tome on the table. "Are you really, really sure that you're all right and that you can walk?" Ginny was looking at Hermione anxiously, with concern etched across her face. 

"Yes, Ginny. I can walk. Don't worry. By the time the Ball starts, I'll be up and dancing with the whole male population of our kingdom," smiled Hermione as she stood up. "C'mon. I need you to help me fix my hair. Could you? Please?" 

"I'd be glad to. Let's hurry. I know you get picky and moody when you prepare for something big," Ginny snickered. 

"Oh shut up! I do not get moody!" Hermione said indignantly. 

"Yes you are. See? It's starting already." 

And both of them headed to Hermione's room laughing their hearts out like the old times when they were still children. 

* * *

"You know Mione, your dress really looks wonderful. The cloth has a very nice texture. And the color! Blue is really your color," exclaimed Ginny excitedly while caressing Hermione's dress.

They were inside the Princess' vast room which was warmly furnished with pale blue silk curtains. There were soft and plump high-backed chairs placed by the fireplace, and in the middle of the room was a queen-sized, canopied bed covered in a rich blue blanket. On top of the blanket were large, soft pillows. Her room was filled with bluebells, most of which were placed in huge vases. 

"I know! Right when the dress-maker showed me the dress, I knew it was THE dress. Even Father agreed that it fitted me nicely," replied Hermione while brushing her long, brown hair. She was seated at her vanity table that was covered in various cosmetics, brushes, perfumes, and those other things girls consider as necessities. 

After arriving at Hermione's room, they immediately laid out everything on her bed while Ginny prepared the cosmetics and of course, Hermione's mask. Ginny herself was attending the ball, being the Princess' best friend since they were wee little babies. Their friendship actually started when Ginny's father, one of the wealthiest in the kingdom, came to visit the king, and she had come along. They came there about some business her father was handling for the king, and she came because she was excited at the thought of a great castle with kings, queens, and even princesses living on it. Being a little girl back then, she would naturally have fantasies about living in a palace, so she had wandered off while her father had stayed in the drawing room. While she was doing her little tour of the palace, she had bumped into Hermione, and from there, they became inseparable. 

"Let me fix your hair, Mione. Then, you can fix mine afterwards." Ginny was about to go over to her best friend and was about to start doing unspeakable things to the delicate hair, when Hermione halted her.

"Wait! Don't you think it's logical that I should put on my dress first because if you fix my hair first, then it might get messed up when I put on the dress afterwards?" a wide-eyed Hermione said. 

"Fine. It's logical, so put on the dress already," answered Ginny. So Hermione had got hold of her dress, and after a few minutes of struggling, had put it on. 

"What kind of hairstyle would you like? Would you like your hair up or down?" Ginny was brushing her best friend's hair thoroughly while thinking of possible hairdos.

Hermione was considering both options. If it was down, it would be stifling hot. If it was up, she'd be having a hard time maintaining the look. Hairs might even be sticking out by the end of the Masquerade Ball. "I would like it down, please. It'd be really hard trying not to ruin my hair if its up," she answered calculatingly.

"Okie dokie! Down it is, my good friend. Oooh! I know the right thing for your hair." And after some minutes of twisting , brushing, and twirling, Hermione's hair was magnificent. Her hair was down, and it was very shiny and shimmery. It was very curly, and bouncy at the ends. It was the brownest of the brown.

Ginny had done a wonderful job with Hermione's hair and said, "There! All done. Now, you can do my hair, my dear friend."

"Wow! You did a marvelous job, Ginny! Really! I never thought my hair would be this bouncy!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly. She was bouncing her hair playfully.

"Well, it was quite difficult to curl all that hair. Anyway, I want my hair to be down," sighed Ginny.

"Thank you! And I know the perfect hairdo for your blazing tresses!" Hermione then proceeded on brushing Ginny's hair enthusiastically, but she suddenly stopped.

"Wait!" Hermione said while biting her bottom lip.

"What now? " Ginny asked, annoyed.

"Well, you should put your dress on too because you hair would be ruined."

"You know, you should stop thinking so much." Ginny was considering the case, "Well, I'll be back in a minute or so. I'll just get my dress from the guest room, okay?" She then left and proceeded on to the guest room, which was only about three doors away from Hermione's room. 

When she came back, she was already in her dress. It was a bright jade dress and it was silken and sleek, even from afar. The dress looked a lot like Hermione's except that the trims were not gold, but silver, and that it was silk not velvet. The sleeves were flared at the ends, and there were floral designs adorning the the hem of the sleeves. 

"You look beautiful, Ginny! But you'll look even more beautiful if I fix your hair." And fix it she did. 

* * *

After leaving poor Harry locked up in the musty, old attic, the Snapes would naturally head to the Masquerade Ball. Draped in glorious, highly-expensive and warm garments, Draco and his father, Severus, talked about the impending Masquerade Ball. 

"Father, do you suppose Hermione would pick me tonight? I mean, I know I'm handsome, astute, and charming, but I'm having doubts that she'll pick some lowly peasant undeserving of such an honor of marrying a princess," Draco stated glumly while looking out the window. He was also holding his black mask at that time. It was quite dark outside with only the bright moon as the source of light and a blanket of stars twinkling in the velvet-like night sky. Draco was dressed in a gray renaissance shirt made of velvet, and black breeches that he just bought days ago. His boots were front lace calf-height boots made of leather. "What about you Vincent? Do you think she'll pick me out of all those desperate fools dressed in rags?" 

"Uh-huh," replied his mammoth of a brother dumbly. "Wait! What was the question again?" Vincent was scratching his head in a savage manner in an attempt to remember the question. 

"Don't fret Draco! Certainly Princess Hermione would pick you. Have a little confidence in yourself. Besides, I know for a fact that you have the highest chances of being picked by the princess according to this poll conducted by the Official Nosey, Never Minding Their Own Business Association of which I am president," said Snape regally, ending the conversation promptly. 

A silence and a flat excitement slowly enveloped them as they neared the palace. Plenty of carriages were already lined outside; different shaped and colored ones, each giving away the social stature of its owner. The guests were already entering the palace premises, each one adorned in expensive- looking clothes of various colors and textures. 

Stopping abruptly at the front of the palace, the Snapes' carriage was decorated simply with clear-cut engravings and their family crest. The three pompous men stepped out of their stagecoach flamboyantly, already wearing their masks. Although no one can actually see his face, Draco was, as always, busy showing off his *ahem* his ruddy good looks, and for which the author straightforwardly worship and adulate this gorgeous platinum-haired, fair-looking adolescent [a/n: was that too much?]. Vincent was practically running to the palace, unabashedly impatient to wait for the food while Severus was walking like any person who thinks himself a king. 

Upon entering the ballroom, Draco immediately sought out the Princess though he could only see a sea of masks. He pushed his way to the thrones at the other side of the room, thinking that Hermione was there. 

Hermione, being the smart person that she is, recognized Draco right away because of his unmistakably blonde hair that was a dead giveaway to anyone. His hair was actually very popular in the whole kingdom and girls practically lined up for his attention, but not Hermione. 

"Hello there, Princess Hermione." 

Hearing this statement, the Princess looked up, and upon seeing the smirking Draco, frowned obviously. She was clearly upset and agitated that her worst nightmare had found her. After expelling a very long sigh, Hermione straightened herself and welcomed the Snapes as they reached the front of the room. The Princess was unmistakably trying to smile and forcing herself to act nonchalantly. 

"Welcome Severus, Vincent, and Draco. How are all of you doing?" Hermione said with a forced smile plastered on her face. 

"We're doing fabulously, Hermione. How are you? Happy Birthday, by the way," responded Draco boringly. 

"How did you recognize me, Draco?" 

"Well, your brown hair told me. You see, you're the only one who has that kind of brown hair. Although your tresses are quite beautiful, mine are still the best." 

"I totally agree, Draco and thank you for the compliment," answered Hermione acidly. 

Draco was obviously oblivious to what Hermione tried to impart. "Maybe you could dance with me, Hermione," cooed Draco seductively. 

"Maybe later, Draco. Well, I do hope you enjoy the party, but I have some business to attend to and I have to look for Ginny. Hope you have a great time tonight." And she left immediately, trying to avoid Draco. '_I have a feeling this will be a very long night.'_

* * *

"Stand still." 

"I am standing still, for your information," answered Harry indignantly. 

"No, you are not. You're moving a lot, actually," Ron said while calculating what clothes looked best on Harry. "Hmmm. How about this?" He waved his hand, and there was a *pop*. Harry was now dressed in a Scotsman's outfit, a kilt to be exact. The kilt was blue and white, and he had a plain white shirt on. He was holding a bagpipe, and was even wearing a beret. 

"Ron, nice job! Now, I look like a Scot. D' you think this outfit is appropriate for the Masquerade Ball?" Harry said sarcastically. 

"Hehe. Sorry about that. Don't worry. The next one will be perfect!" said Ron sheepishly. Again, he waved his wand and another *pop* came. This time, however, Harry was wearing baggy pants, a baggy shirt, and a cap. Basically, everything was baggy. He looked a lot like Coolio, and it wasn't just the clothes. His hair was done in a style African-Americans have today. Actually, he looked like a modern day rapper. 

"Oh man! Again, nice job, Ron! You couldn't have done it any better. Really, I could pass for a rapper or something." Harry was getting irritated by the minute, and was ready to throttle Ron. 

"Sorry! Really, I'm sorry about that. I've already done this before. It must be that my wand is malfunctioning or something, but don't worry. The next will be the prince charming outfit," answered Ron while backing away from Harry in fear of being strangled. He then waved his wand and the third *pop* came. Harry was now dressed in leather pants, a white, ragged shirt, a leather jacket, and combat boots. He was dressed like a rock star. 

Harry was livid. In fact, he was already advancing on Ron, and was about to grab his neck and squeeze the life out of him. 

"Wait! Don't kill me. If you, by any chance, murder me, then you won't be able to go to the Masquerade Ball, therefore, you won't be able to make Princess Hermione fall in love with you," Ron said hastily as he was on the brink of getting executed. 

"Fine, but you better do it right this time because I'm losing my patience enormously." Another flick of Ron's wand and the *pop* reverberated. Now, Harry was dressed in a gown. It was pink in color, and it had several petticoats under it. There were plenty of laces on the sleeves, and there were some fancy embroidery on the chest. Harry was even wearing THE glass slippers. Now, he really looked like Cinderella. 

Harry was tapping his foot impatiently. His fraying nerves had already snapped, and he was looking at Ron murderously. "I thought that you would do it right this time," Harry muttered through gritted teeth. 

"Didn't I? Besides, you look pretty in pink, right?" Ron was very scared of Harry right now. You would be too if you saw him. His eyes were near to popping, and there was a nerve twitching beside his left eye. He was poised to attack Ron like a lion poised to attack an antelope. 

Because of Harry's obvious anger and in an attempt to calm down himself, all he could say was, "One last chance." And because of Ron's fear of Harry killing him, he flicked his wand again, and yes, there was another *pop*. This time, Ron got it right. 

"Finally!" Harry said with relief. "And thank you. But I have a question." A pause. "How am I suppose to go there?" 

"Oh! I nearly forgot that one. Well," Ron said, "do you have a pumpkin?" 

* * *

The Ball was already going smoothly, and Hermione had been asked to a dance once in a while. She had even danced with her father, King Albus, and Ginny's father, Lord Richard. Everything was going by nicely. Draco hadn't even bothered her, but she suspected that he had been preoccupied with all the girls drooling all over him and that he probably can't find her. 

Hermione was having a hard time choosing a groom. Everyone was very nice to her, but she assumed that they were only nice because she was a Princess. _Stupid Masquerade! Didn't even work. Most of them can still identify me. Now, if they didn't know that it was me, then I could really find a groom who would know me as me and not me as a princess. _Because she was really having a hard time choosing a husband and didn't like to think about it much, she set off to find Ginny who could help her find one. 

When she was about to go to the other side of the room, she realized that she needed a drink first, so she went to the refreshment table to get a little drink. When she was done drinking to her throat's content, Hermione started for the other side of the room.

And that's when she saw him. He had just entered the Ballroom, and had just probably arrived. He was walking towards the refreshment table. He was the most beautiful sight she'd ever laid eyes on. He was tall though not lanky. He had unruly raven hair and was medium built. His skin was tan and looked soft from afar. He wore a plain white shirt with a moss green suede jerkin on top. He also wore black breeches and knee- high leather boots. He had a white mask covering his face.

Hermione was completely taken aback. She was in a state of shock. She was even gaping at the mysterious man with her mouth open. She only regained her composure when someone bumped into her. She then turned to lash at the person who bumped into her when she realized it was Ginny.

"Oh! I've been looking for you everywhere. Where have you been?" asked Ginny jovially. "I've been having the time of my life, you know. And today being your birthday, I thought that you should be having the time of your life also. Dear me! Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Ginny. Come. Must. See. Guy. Over. There" Hermione then pointed to the refreshment table. 

"Whatever are you talking about?" Ginny was getting confused. Never in her life was there a moment when Hermione had been this incoherent. 

But Hermione was unable to answer because as Ginny asked the question, she had already dragged her to the refreshment table. 

* * *

**Next Chapter: **Harry and Hermione's magical dance. 

**Author's Note: **Please pretend that they knew about rappers back then. I was running out of ideas, so that was the result. So sorry for such lame ideas. ^.^ 

There isn't much H/Hr action in this chapter, but the next chapter is full of fluff, so don't worry! I'm hoping that I'll be able to post chapter 3 soon, so be patient. If you have any comments and/or suggestions or you just like to bash my fic, you can simply click the button down there and review away. :p 


	3. The Magical Dance

**Title: ** The Cinderella Chronicles

**Disclaimer: ** I own nothing. Some names used were from the Simpsons.

**Author's Note:** Sorry if this chapter took long to post, but I had to research on the dance and I had to write the steps in a way that you'd understand them. It was very difficult to do because I didn't understand the steps that much, so pardon the incoherence or if you can't understand the dance. And I hadn't the chance to write anything for a few days because I went to the beach. :p By the way, thanks to all who reviewed chapter 2! Those reviews made my day! Enjoy! ^_^

**Chapter Summary:** Harry and Hermione dance, Draco is jealous, but meets a certain redhead, we learn something new, the clock strikes twelve, and Harry runs for it.

* * *

**Chapter 3: The Magical Dance**

Harry Potter couldn't have felt any more surreal that night. If you would've asked him a week ago if there was any chance that he'd be able to go to the palace dressed as a yummy-lookin' stud muffin, then he'd laughed at you like you were some lunatic with a loose screw in his head. And it wasn't just that. Everything that happened this week was surreal; from the surprising invitation a few days ago to the immaculate appearance of his pseudo-godfather, he'd never imagined himself to be in the middle of these things. Mr. Potter was just pondering all of these while standing quietly in the corner of the Grand Ballroom. He had just arrived barely minutes ago and was just about to start looking for the Princess if that was any possible because it was already a quarter after nine; it'd be _very_ difficult to look for someone you've only seen for a few times in this kind of crowd, especially when everyone's wearing a mask. Why the rush and the hurry, anyway? Well, it just so happens that when Harry was about to go to the Ball already clad in his prince charming outfit, Ron had stopped him and had told him that he should be back before the clock strikes twelve because the magic would only last until then.

When he was _really _about to start searching for the Princess, someone bumped into him, a girl with brown hair to be exact. As all actions have a reaction, the drink Harry was holding spilled all over his front.

"Oh no! I'm sorry! I'm terribly sorry! I didn't mean to do that. I'm really sorry! It's just that my friend over there pushed me. I didn't mean to bump into you," Hermione apologized fervently while trying to wipe Harry's stained shirt with her handkerchief.

"It's alright. No harm done. I'm still alive, aren't I?" Harry said jokingly. He was finding this girl in front of him to be very amusing.

Hermione wasn't convinced though that he was alright. "But I ruined your clothes! Oh! I feel so terrible, stupid and very angry! Where is that Ginny?" She took a calming breath and said, "You see, I bumped into you because Ginny pushed me." She then craned her neck, trying to look for a certain redhead who's in for a thorough tongue-lashing.

"Don't worry about it. It's just a stain anyway," responded Harry, still very amused at this girl in front of him. "And who is this Ginny anyway?"

"Well, she's my best friend, actually," Hermione said. "And there she is!" Ginny was standing at the other side of the room, at the _very_ far side of the room. She was sticking her tongue out and was sneering at her best friend. "Oh! I'll get her later," Hermione said furiously. She was very livid. You could even see smoke coming out of her ears. 

"Take it easy. She's probably just bored or she hasn't anything better to do. So, are you having fun, I mean, are you enjoying the party?" Harry said while playing with the buttons of his jerkin. Although Hermione did bump into him, he was still quite nervous as the girl in front of him looked pretty though she was wearing a mask, and being a part of the male species, he was getting attracted to Hermione bit by bit.

"Well, the party is quite nice, and the food is delicious, but I am quite exhausted from all the dancing," answered Hermione.

Harry was a tad disappointed because he wanted to ask Hermione if she'd like to dance with him, but she was tired, so he was having qualms about asking her. Anyway, he was trying his best not to look that saddened. "So, a lot of gentlemen asked you already to dance?" he asked.

"Yes, actually," Hermione replied, quite happy because this handsome, raven-haired boy was actually talking to her despite the fact that she ruined his shirt. In truth, when she dragged Ginny to the refreshment table, Hermione only intended to gape...and gape...and drool...and swoon...did I mention gape? She actually never expected that he'd talk to her or even acknowledge her existence. Well, thanks to Ginny for making that one possible. And it seems that this guy in front of her didn't quite know that she was the princess. _'I must take advantage of this'_ Hermione was beside herself with maniacal glee, well, not exactly maniacal, but it was glee nonetheless. 

"Well," Harry said, gathering his courage to ask her a question that would be quite essential for this story to move on, "I was going to ask you to dance with me, but since you're exhausted-"

"Oh nonsense! I'd love to dance with you. Besides, I think it'd be very rude if I rejected your invitation after I so clumsily bumped into you." There was a huge (I really mean HUGE) smile plastered on her face, and there was this certain euphoria emanating from her. Well, who wouldn't? After being asked to dance by the one person you'd surely want to stare at all day and who you find very attractive, anyone would. [a/n: I know I would] 

Harry was also grinning from ear to ear. He couldn't believe his luck. After being saved by his pseudo-godfather, meeting this very fine lady in front of him, and his invitation being accepted, Lady Luck was definitely smiling upon him. "Shall we?" he asked, holding his arm out to Hermione.

Hermione then accepted his offered arm and replied, "We shall." They then practically gamboled to the dance floor, each aware of how the other looked. Harry was looking at Hermione up and down. It never occurred to him that Hermione would be this beautiful. Well, he thought she was pretty in some way the first time he saw her, but he never thought she'd be this elegant and graceful. And he never saw those huge, doe-like, chocolate-colored eyes that were sparkling and that were peering through her golden mask. He never relished the appearance of those brown locks that seemed to beckon him to touch them and caress them. 

Hermione was doing the same thing. Although she did relish his appearance the first time she saw him, she looked at him up and down again with wide eyes. It wouldn't do bad to stare at him again, wouldn't it? Anyway, as I sated above, they practically skipped to the dance floor and upon arriving there, they immediately danced along with the music. They were dancing a sort of distorted form of the Amoroso, a famous Italian dance from the Renaissance period. 

Harry and Hermione stepped three times to the left and paused, and then they stepped three times to the right. Harry then left Hermione with two steps to the left and did a piva (step, step, step, pause). Hermione did the same to catch up with him (chase). Harry leaves Hermione again and did three pive (plural of piva) going to the left and then stepped to the right doing a half turn to face Hermione. When they were already facing each other, they both slid their left foot back and knelt part-way, bending both knees. Harry then stepped thrice to the left, stepped again three times to the left and paused. They then did the steps again, but this time Hermione was the one who ventured while Harry chased her. 

After dancing the Amoroso, naturally they'd be thirsty, so they both decided to get drinks. 

"Whew! That was certainly tiring, don't you think?" Hermione asked Harry. 

"Uh huh. You're a great dancer, you know. Where'd you learn to dance like that?" Harry answered. He was still trying to slow down the rapid palpitating of his heart due to dancing and being near this girl. 

"Well, I had dancing lessons during my childhood days. And you're not half as bad yourself. You're actually very good. Where'd you learn to dance like that?" Hermione was having a blast getting to know him. 

"My mother taught me while we were waiting for my father to return from the war, but he never came back," Harry replied offhandedly like it was ordinary that you'd never see your father ever again.

"Oh! I'm sorry about that," Hermione said to him. "But I can relate in a way. You see, I only have my father because my mother died when I was seven. She had an incurable disease. So, we're kind of the same in a way." 

"Yeah, I guess so." A silence then enveloped them. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence where you run out of things to discuss. It was a silence where they just enjoyed each other's presence; a silence where they can share a likeness; a silence where they can communicate without actually speaking to each other. 

* * *

Draco Snape was handsome and he was surrounded by drooling, gawking, and ambitious admirers. He had all types of admirers; he had vain admirers, rich ones, poor admirers, persistent admirers, beautiful ones, charming ones, even admirers of the...er...same gender. He definitely had a horde of devotees. But the one that he was after wasn't one of them. You see, Draco here had been pining over Hermione for the last century, well, not exactly the last century considering they're only 18, but he had been head over heels for her ever since he saw her in a party when he was 15. Of course, he had tried to woo her into his arms. He tried every trick in the book, but nothing worked on her. Nothing. But Draco was about to change that tonight.

Or so he thought.

"Excuse me, my adoring admirers," Draco started, "but I need to do an...um...errand tonight, and I need to be by myself, so if you could please enjoy the party and dance, chat or something with the other people, then I'll remember to send you all a letter of appreciation." However, the Draco aficionados were not listening because they were too busy ogling at his angelic face. So, in a final attempt to shoo them away, Draco said, "Okay people, it's time to leave now. Shoo!" And because his fans didn't want to upset him, they left him alone immediately. 

He then went in search for the Princess. Any sign of dark brown hair or a blue velvety dress, it would be her. Draco went back and forth in the crowd trying to find her, and when he finally did, she was talking with another man, a man with jet black hair. Actually, it was more like a boy. 

_ 'Damn! Who's she talking to?'_ Draco watched them. It seems that Hermione was not likely to leave this chap. Draco's eyes were beginning to narrow to slits. 

"You'll be sorry Mr. I-don't-know-your-frickin'-name. You'll be sorry for even talking to her," Draco said quietly so that no one would hear him. Before he knew it, Hermione and the...person were walking with arms linked together to the dance floor. They were already dancing when Draco tried to walk to where they were standing before, but before he could even reach the said destination, he tripped on someone's long green dress. 

* * *

Ginny was observing the two people as they danced. She had played matchmaker that night, well, not exactly matchmaker since Hermione spotted him first, but she was the one who initiated their contact. Okay, she pushed her so that she'd bump into him, and it worked, didn't it? Anyway, she was happily watching them dance and was happy herself because her best friend had finally found someone. Hopefully, Hermione wouldn't let go of this one. Hermione had been right when she said that the mysterious guy was gorgeous, but he had not been Ginny's type. 

"Oh how nice it is to see Hermione so happy!" Ginny said to herself as she watched them. When she was about to watch them more, someone [a/n:*wink! wink!*] tripped on her long, flowing dress. And that someone was blonde.

"What is the matter with you? Are you dumb or so-" Ginny stopped when she saw who was the one who tripped on her dress. "Draco? Is that you?"

Draco stood up gingerly and winced. His...um...buttocks were hurt from the fall. "The one and only," he snapped at her without realizing who he was talking to. "And who may I as-" He had stopped when he saw that fiery red hair on top of that masked face. "Virginia?" 

"The one and only," quipped Ginny. "And I'm sorry about that whole you-tripping-on-my-dress incident. Didn't mean that one, and I never knew Dracos could stumble. Hmmm. Interesting."

"Shut it, Virginia. I'm not here to play games or whatnot," Draco snapped irately. His bottom really hurt.

"Oh aren't we calm?," Ginny said sarcastically. "If you're not here to 'play games or whatnot', then _why_ are you here then?"

"I am here to lure Hermione into my arms."

"By that you mean into your deadly trap," Ginny snorted. "You never do give up, do you?"

"I will never give up until she's in my arms, loving me to my heart's content," he drawled.

"You mean to your ego's content," Ginny said, not bothering to lower her voice, so Draco wouldn't hear. "Aren't you tired of going after Hermione? I mean she's already rejected you for, oh I don't know, a HUNDRED times. Draco, you have a horde of girls and _ boys_ going after you. What's so special about Hermione that you want her this badly?" she said, stating the palpable.

"I want her this badly because she's the one and only girl who has refused my charms for time immemorial," Draco replied exasperatedly. "My scheming plans to seduce her are always futile."

"First of all Drakie baby," Ginny started, but Draco interrupted ("Never call me that! Someone might hear you!"),"she's not the only girl in this kingdom to snub your...er...charms. There are plenty of girls who snub your charms because you're a pigheaded chauvinist, and I am one of those girls."

"For one thing, I never tried to woo you because you're a perky egghead who has nothing better to do besides tagging along her best friend for her entire sodding life," he said to her spitefully. His nerves were slowly deteriorating. No one had ever done that to him before...except for this redhead. 

Ginny gasped. "How dare you call me a 'perky egghead'! I AM NOT AN EGGHEAD! Take that back, you-you arrogant strutter!"

"Wow! That was a lame insult," Draco said to Ginny. "And I am not a strutter! I never strut."

"Yeah right, Drakie. You strut. No, scrap that. You _swagger_!" Ginny guffawed. 

Draco was really losing his cool. All because Ginny said that he struts. Well, that was shallow. Really. Anyway, he was really livid and near to the point of strangling the redhead, however, he had a better idea. Draco, much to Ginny's surprise and rage, kissed her to the point of no return. Ginny was completely lost in his kiss. It was like paradise mixed with burning hell. She couldn't explain the feeling; she loved the kiss and hated it at the same time. When Draco was about to deepen the kiss to another notch, she finally got a hold of her hormones and broke off the kiss. She was completely taken aback that when she looked at Draco straight in the eye, she punched him right in the face.

Now, Draco was the one completely taken aback.

"What was that for?" Draco howled as he clutched his broken and bleeding nose.

"That was for kissing the hell out of me," Ginny replied casually, and sauntered off to the other side of the room, with her dress billowing behind her. 

* * *

Severus Snape was a very observant person. He was a master of observation. As much as he was oleaginous, he was also very vigilant, which is a bad thing considering he was currently watching Hermione's dance partner, Mr. Harry Potter. Of course, Mr. Snape didn't know _that_ certain fact, but he will soon. As I was saying, Severus Snape was watching our protagonist intently while Sibyll Trelawney, the vice president of his self-established organization, was blabbing about this week's gossip. 

"By the way, did you know that Mrs. deVille found out yesterday that her husband, Henry, has a mistress? And do you know who the mistress is? It's Margareth Bouvier, the baker's daughter!" Sibyll uttered breathlessly with much enthusiasm evident in her shrill voice. However, Severus was not paying attention to what she was chattering about. He was still staring fixedly at the masked man as though he knew him for quite some time, as if he'd been living with that person for a few years. 

"Severus, did you know that Bartholomew Smithers proposed to Cindy Krabappel an hour ago?" Still, Severus Snape ignored the sizzling gossip, and this irked Sibyll because she is NEVER ignored. So, she talked to him more, trying to catch his attention, however, her attempts were futile. 

In a _final_ attempt to capture his unfeeling attention, Sibyll Trelawney stated the unexpected. "Severus Snape, I am madly in love with you. I have been for the past twenty years, and I am _dying_, I repeat, _dying_ to get in bed with you," she said dryly.

Now, that statement snapped him out of his deep contemplation of the most perplexing idea in the entire world.

"What?!?" he asked in shock. His eyes were bulging, and he was continuously closing and opening his mouth. He was pretty much doing an imitation of a fish.

Sibyll Trelawney was smiling from ear to ear. "Now, that one got your attention, eh?" she smirked. 

"Thank goodness you're kidding. I thought it was true," he sighed.

"What's on your mind, Severus? It's quite unusual for you not to be excited about some daily dose of sizzling gossip. What's troubling you?"

"Do you see that boy dancing with the Princess? Does he look in some way familiar?" he answered instead. She looked for the boy in question in the sea of masked people, and when she found him, she immediately looked him up and down, scrutinizing his appearance, searching for any sign or action that might give way to something. Sibyll looked at the unruly, raven hair of the boy, and it seemed quite familiar, like she'd seen it before, but she couldn't quite place where or to whom the hair belonged. And after observing the person more intently for another minute or so, it hit her.

"Yes, Severus. That boy looks familiar. He acts and looks a lot like that servant of yours, Harry Potter," she finally answered.

And upon hearing this statement, Severus Snape smiled an evil smile.

* * *

After a few more dances and talking more, Harry and Hermione wandered off to the courtyard. Hermione was finding her mysterious dance partner quite interesting and so did Harry. After talking about their parents, they soon talked about some lighter conversation topics like the economical and environmental impact of smuggling of exotic animals or the development of literature over the past few years. Both of them learned something new about each other during the brief period of time that they spent together. Right now, they were talking about astronomy.

"Do you know that the stars form shapes when they're grouped? And those groups of stars are called constellations?" Hermione asked, enthralled by the beauty of the celestial bodies. 

"Yes, I knew that," Harry answered. "Look, that one over there looks like a dog."

"I know that one! The name of that constellation is Canis Major."

"Where do you get all these information about the stars?" Harry questioned, now enthralled by _Hermione's _beauty.

"Well, when I went to Germany some years before with father, we met this astronomer by the name of Johann Bayer, and he gave me this book, _Uranometria_. It's about the constellations and their associated legendary figures," she answered simply. 

"Really? Was it a nice read?" Harry was getting more attracted to Hermione. When he met her, he thought that she was beautiful, but he never thought that she'd be very intelligent and shrewd. 

"Yes, it was. I learned so many things about the stars, and I sort of became a fanatic when it came to stars."

"You're very lucky. I'd give anything to have one of those books. You see, I've been dreaming of becoming an astronomer when I was young, but since my father died, that dream died with him," he said, envy apparent in his husky voice.

"I'll lend it to you if you like, and you shouldn't have let your dream die. You should've pursued it. Your father will be proud if you did," Hermione answered.

"Well, things got complicated when he died because my mother remarried a slimy git who's very mean to me. And then, there's the fact that when my mother died, things got more complicated. Anyway, there's no point in dwelling in the past, right?" Harry said ambiguously, closing the topic about his family. 

"Right," Hermione replied, letting the subject drop. 

They became silent for a few minutes, taking time in digesting the scene, the setting, and each other. And that was when they heard the noise. It was coming from the bushes on the their right.

"What was that?" Hermione asked, alarmed of the rapid rustling of the bushes.

"I don't know," replied Harry slowly. "It sounds like someone's _moaning_. C'mon, let's look." And they walked carefully and silently towards the sound. When they came near it, they heard voices....and heavy breathing. It was more like panting, actually. 

"Oh Gregory! Kiss me more," a deep voice said huskily. And they heard more moaning.

"I love you, Vincent." And as Harry heard this, he nearly puked there and then. Hermione was giggling like a psychopath because, well, she never thought that they were...a couple. 

"Let's get out of here," Harry whispered to Hermione. "I think I'm going to vomit."

"Okay," was Hermione's reply, and she led him to the palace's garden where they were very far away from the groaning couple. 

"I never knew that Vincent and Gregory were a couple. I mean, I thought they were best friends because they always were with each other," Hermione said while Harry was doubled up beside a tree, puking his guts out.

"Well, I never knew Vincent was gay or Gregory was gay. It never occurred to me that they were a couple," Harry said as he stood up, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "And I wish I never heard that because I will never look at them in the same way ever again. Now, I can never look them straight in the eye without getting nauseated, and believe me when I say that I will have nightmares afterwards."

"You're exaggerating. It's not that bad. I mean, there are worse things than that," she replied, "like seeing them naked." And at this, Harry's face contorted, disgust written all over it. 

"Stop it! You're giving me a mental image of them naked, and THAT is scary," Harry said hastily.

"Okay then," Hermione said teasingly. "Let's just walk then or we could sit over there by the bench."

"Sure then as long as you don't talk about Vincent and/or Gregory doing ghastly things," Harry replied jokingly. He then guided her to the bench, and they sat there in silence for a few minutes, feeling awkward that they were so close to each other.

"It's a beautiful...um...night, don't you think so?" Harry stuttered nervously.

"Yes, it is," Hermione said. "It's a very beautiful night indeed."

"You know, there are other things that are very beautiful....like- y," Harry said absently, but realizing abruptly what he was about to say. 

"Like what?" Hermione asked curiously, her eyebrows furrowed.

Harry's eyes widened at the question. He tried to think of an answer and finally said, "Like the stars, the flowers, the...um...the sunshine, like the green meadow, like...you."

Now, a pair of brown eyes widened. "What did you say?" Hermione stammered.

"I, um, said that you were beautiful," he answered softly. "You are. Even though I can't see your face, I find you very attractive because you're smart, you have a terrific sense of humor, and you're very kind. I had a great time tonight with you." And as Harry said this, he absently lifted his hand up to brush her hair back from her face, and it somehow settled near her face, caressing her cheek lightly. Hermione slowly edged her way near him with disbelieving and wide eyes. Harry then slowly traced her jaw line with his thumb, finally resting on her perfect chin. He gazed at her beautiful face, gradually taking in her delicate features: her brown, bright eyes, her long, seductive eyelashes, her small, cute nose, the flush on her cheeks, and those lips, those luscious, beckoning lips. Then, Harry smiled at her and closed the gap between them with a kiss. 

Hermione didn't know how to react, so she did what her instincts told her and kissed him back. She felt bliss, like she was floating on a cloud. She felt like she'd breathe her last breath if Harry stopped kissing her, and she never felt this way before. Hermione didn't even mind that she just met this person and that she didn't even know his name. She just let herself drown in this moment. She then wrapped her arms around Harry's neck, trying to close what space that was left between them. 

Harry buried his hands into Hermione's soft hair and clenched his hands into fists. He was relishing every bit of this kiss. He actually felt the same way that Hermione felt. He was confused and happy at the same time. He had never felt this way before, like he was falling from a high cliff and an angel caught him. He even forgot who he was for a second, forgetting that he wasn't even supposed to be here. He felt like his head was about to explode.

Then, they both pulled away from each other slowly, both gasping for oxygen.

Harry didn't want it to stop, of course. And when he was about to pull her into one more mind-boggling kiss, the most dreadful thing happened.

The huge clock in the town square started chiming. 

He ignored the first four strikes, but when the sixth strike came, he remembered what Ron told him. _'Remember to be back before the clock strikes twelve. If you stay one moment longer, you'll find yourself in a very horrible situation. The magic will only last by then, so do take care of yourself...'_

"Oh no!" Harry gasped. He needed to get out of here. He needed to or else he'll turn back into what he was before, a lowly servant. And this lady mustn't find out about who he really is.

"What? What's wrong?" asked Hermione carefully. 

"Nothing," Harry lied. "I need to go home by now. I have...errands to do. Goodbye. I...I had a marvelous time with you tonight, my lady." He gave her one small, gentle kiss on the lips, smiled, and ran. He ran as fast as his feet could take him. He ran to the foyer and down the steps. He really needed to get out of here. If anyone saw his rags when the clock stopped chiming, he'd be in serious trouble.

"Wait! What's your name?" Hermione ran after Harry, taking off her mask while doing so. "Please, I need to know your name."

In a palace, you must have plenty of front steps, and so did this particular palace. Harry was running down the steps fast. Hermione was right behind him, slowly advancing, but he had the advantage because he wasn't wearing a heavy and long dress. When Harry was about to turn back and see if she was nearing him, he heard something snap. The string holding his mask had snapped, and it fell to the ground. He found himself staring at the girl he had just kissed moments ago. He was staring at the Princess. 

"Please, I need to know your name. My name's Hermione." And Harry lost no time in turning back and running towards the carriage that looked strangely like a pumpkin. Upon entering the said carriage and swiftly closing the door shut, Harry looked back wide-eyed at the person he never thought he'd kiss in a hundred years.

Back at the stairs, Hermione slowly picked up the mask lying on the cold, marble step. She can't understand why he ran off like that, but she won't let go of him. She'll find him no matter what.

* * *

**Next Chapter:** Hermione begins the very looong, exhausting and exciting search for her prince charming...but will she find him amidst all the other *cough* fish in the sea?

**Author's Note: **Again, thank you for all those who reviewed chapter 2! If you want to look at Hermione's dress, say it in your review or email me. Fanfiction.net won't let me post the url of the site. And Johann Bayer and his book, _Uranometria_ are real. Anyway, sorry if there are any grammatical errors or plot holes or just plain errors in this chapter. I finished this chapter when the cock was crowing. 

If you have any remarks to say, any mistakes to point out, anything, you can press the button down there and say what you want to say to me.


	4. Where for art thou, my green eyed Prince...

**Title: **The Cinderella Chronicles

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. The HarryPotterverse belongs to J.K. Rowling. Cinderella is a French fairy tale.

**Author's Note: **Thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter 3. Sorry for the long wait! I had writer's block for about a week. My mind was totally blank. Really blank. And...I neglected writing because I got too caught up with making a new layout for my site. Also, I changed the rating to PG-13 because of some cuss words.

This chapter is dedicated to the well-being of all those affected by SARS and their families. I wish them speedy recovery and that, hopefully, this storm would pass the world. 

**Chapter Summary: **Hermione basically looks for the gentleman she danced with at the Masquerade Ball, and someone faints because of a revelation.

* * *

**Chapter 4: Where for art thou, my green-eyed Prince Charming?**

It was the day after the most-talked about event of the year, the Masquerade Ball. Most of the people were talking about what went on the previous night. Right after Hermione picked up the mask, she went inside the palace and announced to the crowd that she had already found her groom-to-be, but of course, there was a hitch. The Princess didn't know what his name was, and this presented a problem, don't you think so? So, being the smart person that she is, Hermione announced that she will search for the man who has captured her heart. At his pronouncement, whispers of excitement, anxiety, and gossip started erupting inside the Ballroom. This atmosphere lasted until the whole week. Actually, the atmosphere lasted until the Princess found him, and the details to that will be discussed later in the chapter. Anyway, although they knew that they weren't Hermione's "Chosen One", most of the male population in the kingdom were hoping that the Princess would be coming to their homes and proclaim that they would be her future husband. People everywhere were tidying up their houses in hope that Princess Hermione would visit them, but not everyone's house would be searched, honestly. 

While every single person was busy gossiping, Princess Hermione was inside the palace, more specifically inside the parlor. She sat languidly in a chaise longue, trying to think of a way to search for her Prince Charming. She was co-conspirating with Ginny on ways on how to make the search easier and shorter, considering the fact that there are plenty of men with black hair.

"Hermione, what other _unique_ features or qualities does Mr. Mystery Guy have?" Ginny asked thoughtfully.

"Well, I do know that he has the most brilliant green eyes. When I looked at them last night, they looked like deep pools of emerald that emanated a combination of mystery, thoughtfulness, intelligence, and a little...sadness, actually," Hermione answered while fingering the white mask, remembering how handsome and gentleman-like he was.

"Herm, we need UNIQUENESS...DISTINCTIVENESS here...or else we'll be left with a very long list of raven-haired men," Ginny said exasperatedly. "And I don't want to go through all those men and their Y chromosomes."

Hermione thought about him long and hard. She thought about how cute his smile was, even though it was a bit crooked, how charming he looked in his crisp white shirt, and how a good kisser he was. She thought about him more, racking her brains for anything specific while looking at the mask intently as though it would help her. And that was when she found the letters. Hermione gasped and fingered the small letters, H.J.P, on the bottom left side on the back of the mask. 

"What is it, Hermione? Is something wrong?" questioned Ginny apprehensively.

"Ginny, come here and look," Hermione said as she straightened up. Ginny then went and sat beside her on the chaise longue. "You see, there are three letters written on the back of the mask. Do you think it's his initials?"

"Maybe, Hermione, but we can't be sure. It could be anything. It could be an acronym, a symbol to remind him of something. It could be a code or initials to a place," Ginny answered.

"But there's the tiniest bit of possibility that these letters could be his initials, right?" Hermione's eyes were sparkling oddly, a glint of adventure in them. 

"Fine. There is the smallest bit of probability though our chances are slim."

"Ginny?"

"Yes?"

"Could you stop being a prat and just side with me?" Hermione asked frustratedly. "I think you know that you were the one who pushed me, and because of that one push, I met him and got to know who he is. Of all people, I thought you'd be the one to be the most supportive and helpful." 

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just...It's just that I had a bad encounter with the worst kind last night," Ginny said tiredly.

"What happened, Gin? Tell me." And at this statement, a blush crept up Ginny's cheeks.

"No-nothing. It's nothing, really," Ginny lied nervously.

"Liar. I've known you for ten years. I can see right through you, m'dear," quipped Hermione with a smirk adorning her delicate features.

"Fine, then. But you better prepare yourself for this-" Ginny took a deep breath, then said, "Draco kissed me last night." (a/n: dundundundun!)

"No way!?!"

"Uh-huh. It was very disgusting. I had to brush my teeth and rinse my mouth for millions of times. It was his revenge because I called him a strutter, and I punched him right in the face after he kissed me."

"Good for you-"

"But that's not what's troubling me," Ginny said, preparing herself for the 'revelation'.

"What then?"

"I liked the kiss. I felt something afterwards. And that's just eww! I don't know, but I'm disgusted with myself," Ginny replied in a distressing manner. "Well...he was a good kisser. I can't deny that fact."

Hermione giggled. It was very funny to see Ginny this distraught because she liked being kissed by Draco. "You're being ridiculous, Gin."

"Fine. Make fun of me. Call it ridiculous!" Ginny replied sardonically. "Honestly! I mean, he's Draco, the haughty, good-for-nothing asshole. We used to, I mean, still are fighting and squabbling about the shallowest things, and he _struts_!" 

"Okay then," Hermione said, trying to contain her giggles. "Let's just get a list of the men with black hair, green eyes, and the initials H.J.P"

"Fine," Ginny scowled.

"And hon? Don't try to think about Draco that much."

* * *

It was the day after the Masquerade Ball. Harry woke up with the most charming smile on his face. The sun's gleaming rays were pouring from his tiny window, illuminating his striking features. The birds were twittering their happy, melodious jingles, and there was a cool atmosphere as he woke up. Harry then slowly dressed up in his rags, sighing like a swooning madman. Afterwards, he gambolled down to the kitchens and whistled while he worked and cooked breakfast. He was simply euphoric that day. He was so happy because he had finally met the princess. No, scratch that. He finally _kissed_ the princess, and because of his elation, he looked like a batty, lovesick fool. Of course, someone would have noticed this rapid change of behavior from him. If nobody did, then they must be blind. Anyway, someone did notice and it is most unfortunate that the person who noticed his hyperactivity was no other than Draco Snape. Well, his stepfather noticed too since he was expecting it.

"Good morning!" Harry exclaimed happily as he served the Snapes some delicious scrambled eggs. 

"Good morning too, Harry," Vincent replied with much gusto. He then snatched up the plate of eggs, and scooped a huge mound of the said food. He too was having a marvelous morning. [a/n: because of you know...last night...with G.G.]

"Well, aren't we all ecstatic today?" Draco said dryly. He was in low spirits today because of, well, because of...last night. "What is the matter with you two?"

"Nothing, Draco. It's just a beautiful morning. Don't you think so?" Harry replied while pouring milk on Draco's glass.

"No, it is not a beautiful morning. It's a horrendous morning, really. With the stupid birds chirping like broken records and that sun! It's _too_ bright for my liking this morning. And what kind of food are you feeding us? Dung?" Draco stated too frankly. "And would you stop whistling? It's giving me a headache. And why are you so frickin' jolly today? You were never jolly before."

"Okay, okay! I just woke up on the right side of the bed this morning. No need to get your knickers in a twist," Harry said as he went to the kitchen. 

"I heard that! What is it with you today, Potter? You bloody wanker!" Draco shouted to Harry. He then turned to his father and said, "You know Father, you should stop feeding that filth. Throw him out, probably? He's getting to my nerves with all that whistling and rambling. Pretty soon he's going to spew out poetry. He's too cheery for my liking. And he's just plain weird. I mean, yesterday he was about to burst when we left him, and now, he's all happy and smiling like a fool."

"I know, Draco. I know," replied Severus with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "He does seem a...bit _too_ happy today, doesn't he?"

"Yes, Father. He certainly is. Why is he even happy? I mean, we left him last night to rot, and he's _in high spirits. _There's something unusual about him," replied Draco while merrily playing with his breakfast.

"Don't worry. I'll have a little...tête-à-tête with him later," Severus said with too much pleasure.

* * *

It was already the third day of Hermione's search for her Mystery Guy or as her father had so aptly named, 'The Search for Hermione's hopefully existent Prince Charming'. Hermione was getting desperate. She didn't know that it would take this long to find him. She had gone to hundreds of houses already and still no sign of him. Her list was actually not as long as she had anticipated, but it certainly wasn't short. She had met dozens of people with black hair, and she was a little tired of seeing all those hair. She had seen lots of pairs of green eyes and yet none of them belonged to him. She had also met men with the initials, H.J.P., and still, she didn't find him. She had met one Henry Jameson Parkinson, a Horace Jonathan Paddington, and a Homer John Pendington, and they had never met her before as she could tell. Indeed, Princess Hermione was getting desperate. 

"Ginny, do you think that I'll ever find him?" Hermione asked worriedly. They were inside her carriage and was about to go to another house not far from the town market. 

"Of course, dear. You'll find him. Don't worry," Ginny answered supportively. She was also getting tired of all those men. Actually, she wouldn't be tired if she saw someone attractive, however, most of them didn't reach her standards. "Just don't give up because if you do give up, you'll regret it." 

"I know." They then became silent for the rest of the trip. Hermione was still thinking about the kiss he gave her. It was a beautiful kiss without the usual awkwardness that one would sometimes feel. She remembered how his hand had caressed her hair, how good he smelled, like a mixture of mint and soap, how his lips felt on hers...and those eyes. Those eyes that seemed to look into her soul. She was looking dazed by the time the carriage stopped. 

"Hermione? Hello?" Ginny waved a hand in front of her friend's face. "We're already here." 

"Oh! I'm sorry! I was just thinking," was Hermione's reply. Both of the maidens then stepped out of the carriage gracefully, Ginny first then Hermione. When they finally got out of the carriage, they found themselves in front of a shabby-looking house with weeds scattered across the yard. There were various flowering plants also and a narrow path that lead to a dirty-looking, wooden door. They carefully walked on the path, lifting up their long dresses in the process. When they finally got to the door, Hermione softly knocked three times. 

The door slowly opened, and a gravelly voice said, "Who's there? What do you need?" 

"Um, I'm Hermione and this is Ginny. We're here because we've come across the knowledge that a Mr. Harrison Jack Peterson lived here," Hermione said cautiously. That gravelly voice scared her a bit. 

The wooden door then opened wide, and a gravelly-looking old man appeared before them. He was about a head shorter than Hermione. He was bald and a bit plump; he had deep, blue eyes, a pointed nose, and a short beard. He was dressed in old-looking clothes with patches sewn in some places. And there was a pair of thick, pearly glasses perched on his nose. "Ah, I am Harrison Jack Peterson. How can I be of service to you, my dear?" the old man said before slapping his forehead. "Where are my manners? Would you ladies like to come in?" Mr. Peterson said with his yellowish teeth bared in a crooked grin. 

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other hesitantly. They were both uneasy at the tone and look of the old man. He was beginning to creep them both out with the way he looked at them. "Uh, sure. Why not?" Ginny squeaked for both of them. 

The old man then stepped back and let Hermione and Ginny walk in his humble abode. He then led them to his warmly-furnished living room. There was a fire place on the far side of the room with a quaint-looking painting of a countryside hanging above it. There was a single window on the right side with heavy and dusty drapes adorning it. And then, there was the little bookcase by the window, filled with heavy tomes. There was also a small desk beside the bookcase. It was littered with piles of parchment and some ink bottles. "Sit, girlies, sit while I make tea," Harrison said, and he went to the kitchen to make some tea. 

Hermione and Ginny then sat in the plush, maroon couch. They sat closely with each other, both nervous with, well, they were just nervous. 

"Gin, I don't like the looks of that man. He seems eerie," Hermione whispered. 

"Me too, but we don't really know him, do we? Besides, it seems that you'd go along with him. Look at his books. They're so _thick_!" Ginny replied. 

"Yeah, I suppose so, but I am certain that I didn't dance with him last night," Hermione said silently. 

"Of course, he's not _the_ one, but we can ask him if he knows anyone having _the_ descriptions," Ginny replied. After a few minutes or so of waiting, Mr. Peterson finally emerged from the kitchen with a tray clasped in his hands. There were three cups, a pot of tea, and a plate of biscuits on it. 

"Would you like some tea? Or some biscuits perhaps?" the old man offered them. 

"Thank you," the ladies replied in unison as they accepted their cups of tea. 

"How can I be of service?" repeated Mr. Peterson. 

"Well, we were wondering if you know anyone with the initials H.J.P. besides yourself or someone who possesses green eyes?" Ginny answered while munching on a biscuit. 

"I see," he said. "Still looking for _him_, Princess Hermione?" 

"Yes, Mr. Peterson," Hermione said. "I'm beginning to get desperate, actually. It's been three days already, and we live in a small kingdom with very few people living in it." 

"Don't be desperate. You'll find him," Mr. Peterson said after awhile. "I don't know anyone that has the same initials as I have. I'm sorry, my dears, but you can ask down at the market. The people there know almost everyone. I'm sure they can help you." 

"Thank you, Mr. Peterson. Thank you," Hermione replied a bit timidly. And after a few minutes of silence and eating, Hermione thanked Mr. Peterson again and left with Ginny. They were going to go to the town market. 

* * *

Harry Potter has never met a finer and more beautiful lady than Princess Hermione. His mind was full of thoughts of her and only her: how good she smelled (like vanilla), how he drowned in her wide, chocolate brown eyes, how long her eyelashes seem to be, how pink her lips were, how soft her hair was, how beautiful her smile was, how smart she was, how much he liked kissing her....Every thought was about her although three days had almost past. Because of her, a rapid change came over him. It was more like a feeling, actually, and it seemed that this _feeling_ would never leave him. And he still felt that certain feeling when he was cooking lunch one fateful day.

"_Let's do the hustle_," sang Harry as he chopped up some carrots. "_tun tun tun taran taran tun tun..._" He then put the chopped carrots aside and moved on with the potatoes. While he was cutting the potatoes, sudden inspiration struck him and began reciting an impromptu poem to the potatoes.

"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione, 

I dream of thee, my sweet pea,

I hope to see thine eyes again,

And to kiss thine precious lips."

Harry then put the potatoes aside and decided to chop the onions. 

"My Princess, my beautiful Princess,

How I long for thee, thou doesn't know,

If I could only hold thee again,

If I could only dance with thee again..." Harry recited to the onions absentmindedly. Of course, when I say absentmindedly, I mean _absentmindedly_, meaning Harry didn't notice someone watching him as he recited his poem to the vegetables. Two nearly-black eyes were peeking from the door leading to the dining room. And those eyes glimmered mischievously. 

Now, just as Harry was about to put all the vegetables in a pot, the door suddenly burst open revealing a very happy Severus Snape. 

"Er, hi?" Harry gulped confusedly.

"Yes, hi to you too, Potter," his stepfather said with a wicked smile plastered on his ugly face. "I need to ask you a question, and you must answer truthfully or you'll find yourself in a very unpleasant position."

"Uh, okay," Harry responded nervously. His mind was racing with thoughts on what the frickin' hell this was about.

"Now, I do believe that we left you locked up in your room before going to the Masquerade Ball, am I correct?"

"Uh-huh. You left me there all right."

"So, how come I saw you dancing with the princess during that same night?" the sadist said unblinkingly. "And when we came back you were still locked up in the attic. Now, tell me, how could that have happened?"

Harry's eyes widened with alarm. _'Oh god! How did he find out?'_ "What are you-"

"Don't deny it, Potter. I have proof that you were at the Masquerade Ball," Snape said with his pointed teeth bared in a nasty grin.

"No, I wasn't at the palace during that night. I was up there in the attic all by myself," Harry lied, his voice unwavering. 

"Liar. Then, how co-." Severus was interrupted as the door suddenly opened again. Draco then entered excitedly, a bunch of clothes in his hands.

"Father, look what I found under the filth's bed," Draco said proudly as he gave his father Harry's clothes.

"My, what are these?" Severus asked amusedly as he showed Harry the clothes. 

Again, Harry's eyes widened with alarm though he tried to look confused. "Er, I don't know what those are," he lied yet again.

"You filthy little liar. It was under your bloody bed. And yet you tell us that you don't know what those are," Draco said venomously, his face calm and composed. 

"If he doesn't know, Draco, we might as well tell him what these clothes are or rather..._who_ wore them at the Masquerade Ball," Severus said, "but first, we must go to your room, my _dear_ boy. We have a lot of things to clear up, don't you think so?" And as Harry was lead upstairs to his 'room', he gulped nervously, his last thought being '_Oh fuck! I'm in deep shit!'_

* * *

"This had better work or else I'm going to decapitate someone unmercifully and curse everyone I see until the next millennium," Ron seethed as he straightened his wig. Come to think of it, Ron has every right to be angry, considering the fact that he was dressed in the oddest way possible. He had a gray wig on with a few wisps of white visible, like the hair of old women. He had a huge and billowy dress on with a ragged apron on top of it. Finishing off the look, Ron put on thick, pearly glasses. Ron looked like a grandmother of some sort. "The bloody wanker won't even let me use Polyjuice," Ron grumbled, referring to Sirius. "Well, I might as well get this over and done with."

As I said earlier, Hermione and Ginny were headed to the town market. And Ron, having acquired of this knowledge [a/n: don't ask me how], took the opportunity to _help_ in the slightest way possible, which is why he was going drag. Now, Ron was standing behind a booth with a variety of fruits scattered on top of it. There were some apples, oranges, grapes, watermelons, and some bananas. Hopefully, he'd be convincing enough as a poor, old lady struggling to earn money from selling fruits at the town market. 

Evidently, no one really noticed him because both he and the booth were charmed so that Princess Hermione would be the only one to spot him amidst all the other booths. "Fresh fruits! Fresh fruits for sale here!" Ron shouted shrilly in his pathetic attempt at a lady's voice over the market's din. Ron shouted more just as he spotted Princess Hermione coming his way.

* * *

Right after leaving Mr. Peterson's house, Hermione and Ginny immediately set off for the town market to ask if anybody knew someone having _the_ descriptions and to grab a bite to eat. Going all through those houses and going around the kingdom famished them greatly. Upon arriving at the market, Ginny detached herself from her friend to hunt for some delicious cakes. Hermione, on the other hand, decided to interrogate some people. She went from booth to booth, asking men, children, and _old ladies_ if they saw or knew anyone with black hair and/or green eyes. Some of them responded eagerly, saying that they knew of a boy with black hair and green eyes though he was a servant of some sort. 

"Are you sure he's a servant?" Hermione asked for the nth time. 

"Yes, Princess Hermione," replied a middle-aged man with a thick mustache on the gap between his nose and his upper lip. 

"Well, thank you for helping," Hermione sighed. This search was getting near to impossible. Princess Hermione was thoroughly tired and exhausted. She was just about to give up on asking when she looked upon an old woman selling fruits at a nearby stand. _'Hmmm. Maybe if I asked one more person. Besides, those fruits look yummy,'_ Hermione thought as she walked to the booth in question.

"Hello, my dear. Would you like some apples?" the old woman asked nicely. 

"Hello, too. Sure, those apples look so delicious," Hermione replied kindly.

"Here, dear," Ron said as he handed a lone, red apple to the princess. "This one's on me."

"Oh, no! I can't accept this for free. Here," Hermione said as she gave the *ahem* old lady some money.

"Well, if you insist..." Ron then pocketed the money and said, "So, I suppose you'd want to ask me something because I saw you asking all those vendors over there, and I'm no different from them."

"Uh, yes. I do want to ask you something," Hermione stated as she took a bite from her apple.

"Well, do go on, my dear. We'll be standing here until the end of the century if you don't ask," Ron laughed nervously while he straightened his wig yet again.

"Er, okay. Well, I was just going to ask if you know anyone with-"

"-black hair, green eyes, and the initials, H.J.P.," Ron continued for her.

"How did-" 

"I have my sources, Princess Hermione," Ron cut in. "Well, I don't know...maybe. My memory is a bit rusty."

"Oh, I see," Hermione replied with her eyes downcast. She felt disheartened at what the old lady said.

"I was only kidding you, silly! Of course, I know someone with black hair, green eyes, and the initials, H.J.P.," Ron chuckled in his pathetic attempt at an old woman's voice.

"You do?" the Princess asked excitedly. _'At last, there is a glimmer of hope and light in this infernal tunnel I'm in right now.'_

"Yes, m'dear. I believe his name is Harry James Potter," Ron said, "and he lives over at the Snapes's, actually."

"The Snapes's?" Hermione said in disbelieving shock.

* * *

After dragging Harry up to the attic, interrogating him, and finally confirming that yes, Mr. Potter was indeed at the Masquerade Ball, dancing with the princess, father and son tied him to a chair, put a gag on his mouth, and locked him once again inside the dusty, spider-infested attic. Now, if you were Draco and you found out that the person that you hated the most was the one who swept your beloved off of her shoes, you'd be angry, right? Wait, scratch that. You'd be _livid_, and you'd just like to beat Mr. Prince Charming to a bloody pulp. Well, that's just what Draco felt as I blathered on. He was pacing back and forth inside the living room whilst his father was seated lazily at the comfy, leather couch. 

"I cannot believe that fucking bastard was the one who pranced idiotically with my dear Hermione at the Masquerade Ball," Draco ranted on as he clenched his hands in palpable fury. "Oh, screw him! I'd just love to cut off his head right now and put it in a stake to be displayed in the town square. Or I could tear his body into pieces and turn his blood into ink. Oh, I'd just love to do something horrible to him."

"Calm down, Draco. Don't fret over that vermin. Besides, I still need to think of what I'm going to do to him after that little stint of his at the Ball," Severus replied. 

"Calm down, Father? You want me to calm down? How could I bloody calm down?" Draco almost bellowed. "What if Princess Hermione found out that Potty is her fucking Prince Charming? What will happen then?" 

"Don't be silly. She'll never find out because we'll sell the blasted boy to the Count of Steeds tomorrow," his father replied offhandedly while looking at Draco straight in the eye. 

Just as Draco was about to reply to his father, a loud _bang!_ was heard as the front door was slammed shut. Vincent then entered the living room, a wide smile on his distorted face.

"Hello, Father. Hello, Draco," Vincent greeted them jovially. He was greeted by incredulous stares. 

Having found his voice, Draco said, "Since when were you polite?"

Vincent just smiled. "Oh, I've been polite ever since I was born. You just never noticed. Besides, I always acted dumb before you two," he said in a syrupy voice. 

"Whatever," Severus replied as he turned to Draco. "Draco, come with me. We need to make some arrangements for the boy." He then stood up and walked out of the room with Draco behind him, not noticing that Vincent was trying to tell him something. 

"Oh, crap! How shall I tell him?" Vincent said to himself as he followed them.

* * *

_ 'Just breathe. It's only Draco you're about to face and that horrid father of his_,' Hermione thought as she stepped out of the carriage. After the little clue the old woman told her, Hermione went about the market to look for Ginny. When she found her and told her the clue, Ginny immediately went into shell shock. Hermione dragged her to the carriage, much to Ginny's chagrin, and the carriage immediately brought them to chez Snape. Right now, they were standing before the large, oak door, preparing themselves for the worst family ever. 

"Okay, you knock, Gin," Hermione said while she faced the door.

"Why me? You knock. You're the one trying to look for the bloke," Ginny responded as she crossed her arms.

"Fine." Hermione then knocked three times. The door opened slowly, and an old man appeared before them.

"Mademoiselles," the servant bowed, "you are looking for ze Master?"

"Uh, something like that, Pierre," Hermione answered. "May we come in?"

"Ah, but of course." The manservant then led them to the living room. "Please wait here. Food will be served shortly, and I will call Master Severus." Hermione and Ginny then sat on the plush, leather couch gracefully and waited. After five minutes of waiting, another servant came in the room with a tray clasped in his hands. He served them some tea and crumpets before leaving. A few more minutes passed the maidens by and Severus Snape and his sons finally entered the room.

"Sorry for the wait, my dear ladies, but we had some previous arrangements to do," Severus said as he sat in a recliner beside the couch. Draco and Vincent then sat beside Hermione and Ginny. "So, as to what honor do we owe this visit?" the head of the house asked in his greasy voice.

"Well, as you probably know, ever since a few days ago, I've been searching for this gentleman-" Draco snorted and at this Ginny stepped on his toe _accidentally_. 

"Hey! What was that for, Virginia?" Draco howled in obvious pain.

"Whatever do you mean, Drakie baby?" Ginny said innocently. Draco was about to give his witty retort when Hermione looked at the two meaningfully, and that shut them up.

"As I was saying, I've been searching for this gentleman who I danced with at the Ball. And, er, someone told me that a person having the same descriptions of that gentleman, lived here. My sources told me that a Harry James Potter lives here," Hermione finally finished. She looked at Severus Snape, waiting for a reaction. When she found none, she said, "And I'd just like to ask if I could meet this Mr. Potter and to confirm if he is the gentleman I danced with."

"Well, my dear Princess, I've never met a Mr. Harry James Potter before," Severus said to Hermione. At this proclamation, a cough came from Vincent, but he became quiet afterwards when his father gave him _the_ look. He then turned to Draco and asked, "How about you, Draco? Have you ever met a Mr. Potter before?"

Draco's eyes darkened at the name, but answered anyway. "No, Father. I have never met a Harry James Potter in all my life," he said in a restrained voice. Again, Vincent coughed a violent cough. "Are you all right, Vincent? You might want to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water," Draco stated as he looked at Vincent suggestively. 

"Uh, I don't think so, Draco," Vincent answered.

Hermione was crestfallen and disappointed. This was her last ray of hope, and they crushed it. They crushed it before her eyes. "Well, I suppose we'll on our way then," Hermione said as she stood up from her seat. But just as she was about to thank Severus, a loud crashing noise sounded in the house, and being the curious person that she is, she stayed put and didn't leave yet. She looked up and surmised that the crash came from upstairs.

"What was that?" Ginny said as she stood up.

"It sounded like something falling. I think it came from upstairs," Hermione replied. 

Draco's eyes widened. He stood up immediately and decided to take action. "Uh, that was nothing, ladies. Well, it was nice having you both here. I guess you'll both be leaving now," he said in a syrupy voice as he tried to lead Hermione and Ginny to the front door.

"But there was a crash. Someone might be hurt," Hermione insisted, but Draco was pushing her towards the door already. She tried turning back, but Draco had a firm grip on her and Ginny. 

"Don't be silly, Princess Hermione. It was probably just the blasted cat," Draco replied nervously as he opened the front door. When he was about to push the girls out the door though, he saw another person standing outside. The person was Gregory Goyle. 

"Hi, Draco! Is Vincent in there?" Gregory asked cheekily. Hermione was suppressing her giggles. 

"Yes, Goyle. He's in there." Draco pointed his thumb over his back. Gregory then walked past the three and went inside the living room. As his figure disappeared, Hermione started laughing hysterically. Draco and Ginny just looked at her like she was going bonkers, which she probably was. This spectacle went on for a few seconds before Hermione finally gathered her breath and stopped laughing.

"Er, what was that about, Mione?" Ginny asked carefully, hoping that her best friend hadn't gone crazy.

"Oh, it's nothing, but we better go back to the living room. You'll see for yourselves," was Hermione's cryptic answer. She then went back, with Ginny and Draco behind her. Just as they entered the living room, they saw Severus screaming at the top of his lungs.

"YOU'RE WHAT?!?" Severus shouted at Vincent. 

"I SAID THAT I'M _GAY_, I'M IN LOVE WITH GREGORY GOYLE AND THAT WE'RE LEAVING THIS STINKIN' TOWN TO LIVE IN A FOREST _TOGETHER_!" Vincent bellowed back. And right at that instant, his father paled and dropped to a dead faint on the polished floor. 

"_Oh my god!_" Draco and Ginny said in unison while Hermione stood back stifling her giggles. 

"C'mon, _Greggy_, my love. We're leaving. I've already packed my things. Let's go." And with a quick goodbye to Draco and the two ladies, Vincent Snape and Gregory Goyle walked out of the room and left them there gaping after them. Well, except for Hermione, who was slowly inching her way towards the staircase. Just as she was about to step on the landing, Draco came to his senses and went after her immediately. 

"Where do you think you're going?" Draco asked as he ran to the stairs. Hermione ran as fast as she could up the stairs. 

"And where do you think you're going?" another voice asked Draco.

"What the-" Draco started but was cut short as Ginny stepped in front of him and punched him dead center in the face. 

"OW!?!" Draco growled. "You wench! I'll get you for that!" He then straightened up to his full height and began to advance on Ginny.

Ginny, being herself, was sniggering in an unlady-like fashion, but as she heard Draco growl like a bear, panic surged into her veins. She looked up and saw Draco slowly advancing on her. Ginny's brown eyes widened. "Bloody hell...," she squeaked with only one thought buzzing in her head. _'RUN!'_ And she ran upstairs, not stopping to look at a thoroughly-pissed Draco. 

* * *

_ 'Okay, a little more to the left. You can do this, Harry. YOU CAN DO THIS!'_ Harry thought to himself as he tried to move towards his nightstand, where his trusty pocket knife was placed. Actually, it was usually in his pocket, but his cruel stepfather took it from his pocket and put it on his nightstand far from his reach. And so, Harry tried to edge his way to the nightstand though he was tied tightly to a chair. 

_ 'A few feet more, Harry. You can do this. Four feet more, Harry James Potter, and you're a free man.'_ Harry was still trying in vain to reach the nightstand. He moved a little farther, but then...

_ CRASH!_

"OW!" Harry yelled through his gag. The chair he was tied to fell on its side, facing the locked door. _'Blasted stepfather! And that ass, Draco!' _Harry shouted in his head. He was beyond angry; he was seething. And this emotion triggered him to rave and rant on as he glared at the door as if challenging it that things could turn for the worst. Well, things did turn for the worst as a hairy spider neared him and soon climbed his head. 

_ 'Oh shit! Now, a spider is on my head and is probably thinking of biting me and spreading poison throughout my body. Great! I'm going to die tied to a bloody chair, with a gag on my mouth. Oh, that's just rich!' _

In fear that the spider might bite him if he moved, Harry stayed still on the floor, tied to a chair, with a gag on his mouth. He stayed there grumbling and planning ways to inflict bodily harm and pain to Severus Snape and Draco. Because he was too preoccupied with fuming, he hadn't heard _thumps!_ outside his door. Only when he heard something shaking did he see that someone was trying to open the door. 

* * *

Hermione was panting heavily as she stepped on the second-floor landing. She was trying to figure out where the crash came from. 

"It sounded like it came from the attic," she thought out loud. She climbed the stairs again, but not until she heard Ginny screaming behind her. 

"RUN, HERMIONE! RUN!" Ginny screamed at the top of her lungs as she climbed the stairs. "DRACO IS RIGHT BEHIND US! RUUUUN!" Hermione ran as fast as she could muster. She ran and ran and ran. Without even noticing, she was already climbing the stairs towards the attic. And she still ran like a prey running from a sharp-eyed eagle. Ginny was catching up to her. And so was Draco. 

"Ack! I have to run faster!" Hermione said as she ran up the stairs. She had reached a landing, with a lone door in front of her. The door tickled her curiosity, and she found herself walking towards the door. "Maybe this is where the crash came from," she breathed. She tried opening the door, but it wouldn't budge. In her haste, she hadn't realized that the door had several locks on it, and a set of keys were hanging on the wall beside it. Hermione took the keys and unlocked the door deftly. She took a deep breath and started to open the door, but just as she was about to open it further, Ginny came by her side and pushed the door swiftly, revealing a boy tied up to a chair, a gag on his mouth. 

Draco was right behind the two damsels and saw that they had just discovered Harry. "Oh, crap!" he said under his breath.

* * *

The door opened a little, but it suddenly burst wide, revealing two ladies gaping at him. Harry's eyes widened at Hermione and Ginny. Draco was beside them, cursing under his breath. All of them stayed still for a couple of minutes, digesting the scene. Then all of a sudden, Hermione snapped out of her shock, and walked to where Harry was on the floor, but then Draco stepped in front of her.

"Don't come near him. He has a contagious tropical disease and there's no cure," Draco lied while he blocked Harry from Hermione's view. 

"Oh, move over, you idiot!" Hermione exclaimed as she pushed Draco aside. 

"Yeah, move over, Drakie baby," Ginny agreed as she pulled Draco away from the poor boy on the floor.

Hermione then bent down to Harry and removed the gag. Harry sputtered for a bit. "Hello! Are you all right? Did Severus or Draco hurt you in any way?" Hermione questioned, concern etched on her face.

Harry was in shock. _'Oh my god! Princess Hermione is in front of me!'_ he thought as he stared at Hermione with wide, disbelieving eyes. 

"Hello? Are you all right?" Hermione repeated. Harry just nodded his yes and just gaped. The Princess then untied the knots deftly and helped Harry stand up. "What were you doing tied up to a chair?" At this point, for a person as smart as Hermione, she can be bit obtuse. 

Harry cleared his throat and found his voice. "Well, Severus and Draco tied me up," Harry stuttered as he ran his hands through his _raven_ hair. At this, Draco protested that he didn't tie up Harry.

"I certainly did not tie up the vermin," Draco said without thinking. 

"The what?" Ginny asked, suspicion clear in her voice.

"No-nothing," Draco answered back nervously.

"You said he was vermin." Ginny narrowed her eyes slightly. "You did tie him up, you ass!" 

"I am not an ass!" 

"Okay, okay! You can stop now!" Hermione cut in on a developing argument. She then turned to Harry, who was still raking through his hair nervously. And that was when Hermione realized that Harry had jet-black hair. She slowly inched her way near him and squinted her eyes to see if he had green eyes. Lo and behold, this boy in front of her had the greenest eyes ever. "Great wizards!" Hermione exclaimed with wide eyes. "Are you Harry James Potter?" she asked in barely a whisper. 

"Yes, I am," Harry stammered as he looked at Hermione intently. 

* * *

**Next Chapter:** The long-awaited wedding...dumdumdum!

**Author's Note:** Whee! That was a _long_ chapter! Wasn't it? And I'm terribly sorry if this chapter reeked or was hurried in any way! I tried really hard to make it nice, but it was just a shitty chapter. Hopefully, I can finish chapter 5 soon and make it better than this one. I do hope you'll stay tuned. Um, about the whole '_let's do the hustle_' thing back there, sorry about that. I was desperate for ideas, and that one just came out of me eating lots of pineapple and chocolate crinkles. ^_^ And please review! I would really love it if you reviewed and gave me some pointers to improve my writing or some critiques. Okay, that was my...er..._pathetic_ attempt to get you to review. 


	5. The Rocky Road to Happily Ever After

**Title:** The Cinderella Chronicles

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Author's Note: **If you want to see a picture of Hermione's wedding dress or Harry's wedding outfit, email me or mention it in your review. ^_^ Hope you enjoy reading chapter 5!

**Chapter Summary: **dundundundun....the wedding. 

* * *

**Chapter 5: The Rocky Road to Happily Ever After**

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there lived a boy named Harry Potter. He was unlike any other boy for he had the greenest emerald eyes and the most unruly raven hair in the whole kingdom. He was born rich and was cared for by his wonderful parents, James and Lily Potter, but after his father's death, his mother remarried a slimy git named Severus Snape. Everything worked fine, however, his mother died when he was eleven years old, and from then on, he became a servant. His stepfather kept him though he treated him as vermin. Together with his stepbrothers, Severus maltreated Harry verbally, sometimes physically, and most of the time, mentally and emotionally. But he didn't let them affect him that much. Besides, things changed abruptly for Mr. Harry Potter after meeting his pseudo-godfather albeit a wacky one, going to a certain Masquerade Ball, and meeting Princess Hermione. Indeed, his life changed on that fateful afternoon when Hermione had found him in the attic, tied up to a chair. After finally separating himself from his evil stepfamily, Harry reclaimed his inheritance and bought a small, but warm house near the palace. For almost everyday, he and Hermione met up and spent the day together if Harry wasn't at work, managing his own business at the town market or studying various arts and subjects at the palace. It had been almost a year now since the Masquerade Ball. Harry's life changed so much that he could hardly believe it. Everything felt so surreal and...magical, and Harry would simply marvel at how much his life changed. Every time that he'd think that life couldn't get any better, surprises would just jump right in his face and tell him that yes, life could get better. Hermione would also remind him always that there is still the future ahead of them, so he mustn't let his guard down. 

Throughout the whole morning, Harry was seen in the the palace's garden, where their wedding would take place. He was carefully supervising the decorations and the seats for the guests. He was feeling anxious and tense all morning until the afternoon, and because of this anxiety, he unconsciously criticized every decoration, concerned that it would look horrible when the wedding would start. He panicked that everything would be imperfect and that the wedding would be a disaster. He grumbled on and on about how everything should be perfect for Hermione, and this grated on everyone's nerves, especially Ginny's. When Ginny had had enough of Harry's obsessive-compulsive anxiety disorder, she dragged him along to a room where his things were already placed, told him to shut up, to calm down, to breathe and to dress up already, and locked him in for the rest of the afternoon. 

Shortly after Ginny left, Harry busied himself with boring a hole into the door by staring at it. He was simply preoccupied thinking of the future and how it would be to live in a palace. He continued this for three hours until he realized that he had only two and a half hours left to prepare. He quickly showered, hoping that he'd smell nice during the wedding. His clothes were carefully laid on the bed. His attire for the wedding was simple. He would only wear a simple, white renaissance shirt, black breeches, black, leather boots, his father's old belt, and a black, flat hat, with a white feather on it. He quickly dressed after doing his, uh, rituals after taking a bath. After tying his boots tightly, he proceeded on busying himself with either boring a hole into the door by staring at it or boring a hole into the floor by pacing back and forth endlessly.

"Breathe, Harry. Just breathe," Harry said to himself as he straightened his shirt. It was only an hour and a half until his wedding, and his nerves were about to snap. He was jittery at the thought that an impending disaster would happen, and he kept running his hands through his unruly hair. "Everything's going to be all right. Everything will be oka-" Harry was cut short as a _Pop! _sounded inside the room.

"Hullo, Harry!" exclaimed Ron happily as he patted Harry's back.

Harry wasn't surprised anymore because he was already used to the _Pop!_ that would indicate that Ron just apparated into the room.

"Hi, Ron! Well, I guess you're attending my wedding since you're all dressed up and all," Harry said as he ran his right hand once again through his hair. 

"Of course, I'm attending. Wouldn't miss it, dude." Ron seated himself on the soft bed and started playing with the cuffs of his shirt. 

"Yeah, I guess so," Harry replied as he walked back and forth from one side of the room to the other. 

Ron watched him pace for awhile, his eyes following Harry's direction, like watching a tennis match. It went on for a few more minutes until Ron had had enough of it. "Harry, could you please stop pacing? You're going to create a hole on the floor if you continue this for a few more hours," Ron said exasperatedly. 

Harry stopped walking abruptly and sat beside Ron on the bed. "I'm sorry. I'm just really nervous about the whole concept of getting married. And the fact that I'm marrying a princess doesn't calm my nerves down," he replied with a sigh. 

"Er, yeah. I can't tell you that marriage is great or something because I haven't been married to anyone yet though I can give you something," said Ron knowingly.

"What's that?" Harry asked curiously, a bit suspiciously in fact.

"Mate, I can give you some chocolate!" Ron said as a bar of chocolate appeared on his hand. He then broke off a piece and handed it to Harry, who took it hesitantly. Both of them sat in silence as they munched on some mouth-watering chocolate. After a few more minutes of eating, Ron spoke up. "So Harry, what happened to that stepfamily of yours? I still have to mention what happened to them in my report. Sirius is still over at Timbuktu, and I think he'd be coming back in a month or so. I didn't send my report to him yet since it needed a bit of polishing." 

"Well, since I've already reclaimed my inheritance from my parents, which they've splurged on themselves, they're certainly poor now. The last I've heard of Severus was that he traveled to different places and became an oleaginous bum. Draco, on the other hand, became a pimp afterwards, but he still lives over there at the house. Meanwhile, Vincent is still living in a forest far away from here, together with Gregory Goyle because they're in love. They ran away because Severus would have none of it, I think," Harry said without a single emotion in his deep voice. "All of them can join a circus, dressed as clowns or they could live in forests as hermits for all I care."

"I see," Ron said as he scribbled on his little notebook. "Do you have any other news about them?"

Harry seemed to think it over. "Er, no. I couldn't care less what happened to them."

"Draco really became a pimp? Well, that's something," Ron snorted. "So, what was Severus' reaction when he found out that Vincent was gay?"

"According to Hermione, he couldn't believe it. He fainted, I think," Harry said. "Do you have any more chocolate because I'm starting to get nervous again?"

"Here, I have lots of chocolate," Ron said as he handed Harry another slab of chocolate. "You know, this reminds of that time when I first met you. I was so shocked when you fainted. "

And so, they reminisced about past times until a knock was heard. Ron stood up abruptly and told Harry that he'd be going to the garden already. He then disapparated before Harry opened the door. Outside stood Ginny. 

"Harry, were you talking to someone?" Ginny asked as she swept into the room, with her bridesmaids dress billowing behind her.

"Uh, no, I wasn't, er, talking to anyone," Harry said a bit too quickly. 

"Are you sure? I though I heard you conversing with someone," Ginny said, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Yes, I'm sure I wasn't talking to anyone." 

"Anyway, I'm just here to tell you that the wedding should be starting in an hour or so. I suggest you go out there and welcome the guests. I'm going to see if Hermione needs something, okay?" said Ginny curtly.

"Okay, Gin," Harry nodded.

"I'll see you later." And Ginny turned around and went to Hermione's room. 

Harry quickly straightened his clothes and went out the door, his last thought being, _'Well, here goes.'_

* * *

It was only about thirty minutes until the start of the wedding, and Hermione wasn't better off than her future husband. She was inside her room and was currently pacing and wringing her hands in apprehension. She was already dressed in her wedding gown. The dress had puff sleeves that are adorned with gold-colored studs and highlighted throughout with gold trim and little imitation pearls, and the back had a snap closure trimmed with satin roses. Her hair was curled at the ends, and to sum it all up, she looked simply breathtaking. 

"Ginny, what if I become a horrible wife?" Hermione asked.

"Mione, don't be ridiculous. You, a horrible wife? Honestly, if you're a terrible wife, then I'm madly in love with Draco Snape," Ginny snorted as she sat gracefully on Hermione's bed.

"But what if we aren't really meant for each other and I'm making a huge mistake in marrying him?"

"You aren't having cold feet, are you?" Ginny asked suspiciously, her eyes slightly narrowed.

"Of course not! It's just that I'm _very_ nervous," Hermione exclaimed, "and well, marriage is a pivotal decision. I just wish that I'm not hurrying things up with getting married."

"Don't worry. Everything will be fine," Ginny assured her. "Harry's made sure that everything is going to be alright."

"What if I trip on the aisle and I'd be stammering when I say my vows?" Hermione asked once again.

"Hermione! Just shut up and don't think," Ginny said frustratedly. "You know, you and Harry are really meant for each other. You're both bonkers."

"Huh? Why'd you say that?"

"Because for most of the morning and afternoon, Harry was running around the garden, making sure that the decorations and the seats were arranged properly. He kept on saying that everything should be perfect, and it was just so irritating that he had to be breathing down your back when you're arranging the flowers, so I locked him up in his room so that he'll calm down," Ginny snapped, already tired of the behavior of the two lovebirds, "and here you are, rambling on that you won't be a good wife, practically making a world record by pacing for almost an hour or so. Both of you are just so jumpy and tense. I mean, it's just a WEDDING!" 

"Ginny, you're the one who needs to calm down," Hermione said, concern visible in her eyes. "Are you alright? Do you have a fever or something?"

"Aaaaaaah!" Ginny shouted as she swatted Hermione's hand away from her forehead. "I DO NOT HAVE A FEVER, you crazy woman!" 

"Are you sure you're alright?" Hermione repeated. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes, I'm sure I'm alright. I'm feeling _very_ peachy right now," Ginny answered sarcastically, "Just _peachy_."

"Ginny! Tell me if something's wrong because if you don't I won't be able to put up with a very sour best friend."

"Fine! It's just that...I feel like after you get married, I won't be able to see much of you. Don't get me wrong. I am very happy for both of you, but with you as queen, running this kingdom, taking care of Harry and pretty soon, a child of your own, I'm going to have to share my best friend," Ginny replied. She had been actually thinking of this for the past few weeks. Hermione had been quite preoccupied with planning the wedding with Harry that she had quite a few time to spend with her best friend. Of course, Ginny was only too happy with helping her plan the wedding when she can, but she knew that everything wouldn't be the same after Hermione got hitched. 

"Gin, don't think that way," Hermione said as she sat by her best friend's side. "We can always spend some time together. You can get married yourself, and we can rear our children together. Besides, Harry will be the one to run the kingdom. I'm just going to help him. We'll always be best friends."

Ginny smiled. It was just like Hermione to think that way. "Okay, Mione. I guess I was just being stupid," she said. Hermione then hugged her tightly. 

"Now, don't you ever think that way again. Everyone should be happy on my wedding day, Gin."

"I love you, Mione," Ginny said as she detached herself from Hermione. "I wish you and Harry will have a wonderful life and that you'll have lots of kids, and I'll be their godmother."

"I love you too, Gin. Don't worry, I'll have lots of kids. And when you get married and have plenty of children, I can be _their_ godmother!" Hermione gushed.

"C'mon, the wedding's about to start. Harry'll be gaping 'til the next century when he sees how gorgeous you are."

* * *

It was near to dusk and the sun was slowly setting. Its dying rays cast a soft, orange glow on the palace grounds as a cool breeze swept over the garden and the tree tops nearby. On the center of the garden was a beautifully-decorated gazebo. There were flowers hanging from its posts and there were carefully-placed petals on its floor. Harry was already standing inside it, waiting for his bride. 

The guests all stood up simultaneously as the music started, signaling the start of the wedding march. The flower girls, clothed in their cute, little dresses, marched first, showering white rose petals on the soft grass beds that served as the aisle. The bridesmaids then came next, carrying bouquets of fresh bluebells. After the bridesmaids came the maid of honor, Ginny. She marched gracefully along the aisle, dressed in a specially-designed gown. And then came the bride, accompanied by her father. 

"Well, my dear daughter, I'm finally handing you off," King Albus sighed as he lowered his head to Hermione's ear.

Hermione gave him a wide smile and said, "Yes, Father, you are. I certainly think you're prepared for this."

"I was certainly wishing and hoping that this day would come. That Masquerade Ball was a desperate attempt to get you married. My dear, if I never had that brilliant idea, I would still be thinking of ways to finally convince you of getting married," her father said, amused.

"I suppose you're going to have a blast over at the Caribbean."

"Certainly since I've been dreaming of getting a tan for over a year now," Albus Dumbledore whispered as they marched down the lengthy aisle.

Hermione only saw a blur as she walked down the aisle. Everything seemed to happen in an alarming rate. Before she knew it, they were already nearing the gazebo. And that was when she saw him. Her breathing started to quicken as she couldn't believe how handsome he was. Or it was just probably the nerves working or the thought that this is the moment, the moment most girls dream of. 

Harry's breathing started to quicken too as he held eye contact with Hermione. He was simply in awe. He smiled crookedly at her.

Truly, she was a sight to behold. There were no exact words how to describe her in his opinion, but then there was the overly-used term _beautiful_ that kept popping in his head or perhaps the tasteful _exquisite_ or the simple _breathtaking_. Yes, that was it...breathtaking. 

As they reached the front, the music abruptly stopped, signaling the start of the ceremony. King Albus kissed his little girl one last time on the cheek and handed her to her future husband. He was to conduct the ceremony since it was a royal wedding. He stepped inside the gazebo and cleared his throat to start the wedding.

* * *

The reception was to take place at the palace's large courtyard. It was a simple event, not too much laden with the usual touch of royalty or aristocracy. A platform was was placed at the front, the side nearest to the entryway. On the platform, a table was placed where the newlyweds were seated, enjoying their sumptuous dinner. Everyone else was seated at the round tables scattered all over the courtyard, their closest friends and a few relatives seated near the front. There were lamps hanging from a few trees and there were some candles on each table. 

Everything was a daze for Harry. He hadn't really realized that he was married until they were walking towards the courtyard, their guests congratulating them. His emotions were all mixed right now, but a feeling of happiness ate up all the other emotions. 

Hermione was just as happy, and it showed very well since she was practically glowing from head to toe. It was a great relief to her that she didn't embarrass herself during the wedding. In fact, everything happened so fast that she couldn't believe that her heart already belonged to someone as she gazed at her wedding ring.

"So, how are you feeling?" Harry asked as he looked at his bride.

"I'm feeling very happy, Mr. Potter. How about you?" 

"Oh, I'm feeling quite happy as well, Mrs. Potter," Harry smiled at his life partner. "Are you ready for our honeymoon?"

"I certainly am prepared, but I really wish it'd be longer," Hermione replied as she sipped some wine.

"Yeah, I know, but we can't leave the kingdom for a long time, especially if your father's having a well-deserved vacation."

"He said he'd been dreaming of a tan for over a year now," Hermione laughed as she remembered their short conversation awhile ago.

"Really? Well, I know what I've been dreaming for over a year now."

"What's that?"

"To be with you on our wedding day," Harry said before he gave Hermione a gentle kiss on the lips.

* * *

"Man, Sirius will be proud of me when he reads my report," Ron said to himself as he watched Harry and Hermione stand up to head to the center of the courtyard to start the dancing part of the reception. He was seated at a nearby table, drinking some wine. He was also quietly scribbling something on piles of parchment. He watched the couple silently for a few more minutes as he quietly sipped his wine. After a few more minutes of writing, he decided that he should leave already. 

When he was done shuffling and organizing the pieces of parchment, Ron stood up and straightened his clothes. He slowly made his way through throngs of dancing couples to where Harry was standing. He tapped Harry on the shoulder to say goodbye.

Harry turned to look at Ron, who was smiling from ear to ear.

"Congratulations, Harry."

"Thanks, Ron. If it hadn't been for you and your magic, I wouldn't have had the chance to attend the Ball."

"Hey, it was my duty," Ron said. "Anyway, I'm leaving now. It's a bit late from where I came from, and I still need to finish my report."

"Oh, okay." Harry thanked for one last time, and gave him a manly hug. "Bye, Ron!"

"Yeah, bye." Ron then walked away, looking for a safe place to apparate. But when he was nearing the path to the garden, he bumped into someone with a mass of red hair on the top of her head.

"Oh! I'm sorry," Ron said politely.

"Don't worry about it," Ginny said as she straightened up. She then looked at the person who bumped into her and stared. "You know, it feels like I've seen you somewhere." She noted the red hair and the freckles.

Ron looked at Ginny also and felt that somehow he had known this girl for some years now. As a matter of fact, he had the feeling that they were somehow related, odd as that sounds. "Er, yeah. You do seem quite familiar." 

"Oh well!" Ginny said as she shrugged and left Ron standing there all alone. 

Ron shrugged off the feeling and went to the garden to apparate.

* * *

A month after the wedding, inside a stuffy room at the Ministry of Magic, a thin man apparated with his back to the door. He then walked briskly towards the door and opened it. Outside of the small office sat a red-haired boy, about nineteen to twenty of age. 

"Ron, I'm back!" Sirius' voice boomed, making the boy jump a foot from his seat.

The boy then stood and walked towards the man. "Sirius, you gave me a fright there," Ron said as he hugged the man.

Sirius just grinned and hugged him back. "Was it nice over at Timbuktu?" Ron inquired as he pulled back.

"Yeah, it was a decent place. Did you do lots of paperwork for me?" 

"Oh no. It wasn't lots. It was a _ton_," Ron replied sarcastically. "By the way, the project you gave me, you know, the going-back-in-time business, it's already done. In fact, I've already finished the written report for it." He then walked to his desk, pulled a drawer, and extracted from inside it depths a neatly-bound report. He gave it to Sirius and said, "Here, you can read it at home. I do believe you'd like some rest after your trip."

"Okay," Sirius said as he looked over the front page. There were only three words written on the front. "The Cinderella Chronicles? You wrote this, Ron?" 

"Uh-huh. Well, I'll see you tomorrow then. Off you go now, Sirius."

"Okay, see you tomorrow," Sirius said before he apparated to his flat. 

Upon arriving his flat, he quickly made tea, changed his clothes, and sat at his leather couch by the fire place. He then took the report Ron gave him. 

"Well, I might as well read this," Sirius said to himself. He started reading it and found himself engrossed in the text. He read it quickly, and before long, he was already at the last page. He spoke the last words out loud. 

"And as all fairy tales go, they all lived happily ever after...."

**The End**

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**Author's Note:** *sniff* Well, that's the end, hopefully, not for me. I'll be posting lots of songfics after this and another story entitled 'Written', so please read and review if I do post. ^_^

Special thanks to the following for the reviews for chapters 1 to 4: (you guys rock!) 

Isis, Eliza, anonymous, Lady Phoenix Gryffindor, Dumblydoor, yourslasher, LonelyGer, white dove, NYC_Gurl, keeper of the heart, Vampire Witch/liedariddle, qwert, Alazne, Max, drawwilhoit, Silver Storm Dragon, and to everyone else who cared to read my story! 

Hope you guys had a nice time with me and this little story of mine!


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